IL  I  B  R  A^  R  Y 

oi-  Tici: 

Theological    Seminary 

PRINCETON,     N.    J. 


'^^/'^'(^^     .PT33 

Boo/,      • 


BR    165    .P82    1878 

Pressens   e,    Edmond  de,    18241 


L 


Works  by  E.  De  Pressense,  D.D. 


Translated  by  Annie  Harwood-Holmden. 


JESUS  CHRIST:  HIS  TIMES,  LIFE. 
AND  WORK. 


12mo.    $1  75. 


EARLY  YEARS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

(Consisting  of  Four  Volumes.) 
12mo.    Each,  $1  76. 

APOSTOLIC  ERA. 

MARTYRS  AND  APOLOGISTS. 

HERESY  AND  CHRISTIAN  DOCTRINE. 

CHRISTIAN    LIFE    AND    PRACTICE    IN   THE 
EARLY  CHURCH. 


THE 


EARLY    YE 


CHRISTIANITY. 


By    E.    DE    PRESSENSE,    D.D., 

ATTTHOR  OF  "  JESUS  CHRIST:   HIS  TIMES,  LIFE,  AND  WORK." 


TRANSLATED  BY  ANNIE  HARWOOD-HOLMDEN. 


CHRISTIAN    LIFE   AND    PRACTICE    IN    THE 
EARLY  CHURCH. 


NE\A^  YORK: 
NELSON     &     PHILLIPS. 

CINCINNATI: 
HITCHCOCK     &     WALDEN. 

1878. 


TRANSLATOR'S  PREFACE. 


This  is  the  closing  volume  of  a  series  in  which  Dr. 
Pressense  has  described  and  illustrated  under  its  various 
phases  the  life  of  the  Church  during  the  first  three 
centuries  of  our  era.  The  work,  consisting  of  six 
volumes  in  the  French,  has  been  condensed  by  the 
author  into  four  for  the  English  version.  Three  have 
appeared,  under  the  titles  of  "  Early  Years  of  Chris- 
tianity," '*  Martyrs  and  Apologists,"  and  "  Heresy  and 
Christian  Doctrine."  The  present  volume,  entitled 
"  Christian  Life  and  Practice  in  the  Early  Church," 
has  been  translated  from  the  sheets  as  they  were  pre- 
pared for  the  press  in  Paris,  and  it  appears  almost 
simultaneously  with  the  original. 

For  the  revision  of  the  notes  I  am  indebted  partly  to 
the  late  Rev.  W.  Campbell,  M.A.,  and  partly  to  the 
Rev.  W.  Gray  Elmslie,  M.A. 

Annie  Harwood-Holmden. 


TABLE    OF   CONTENTS. 


EARLY  YEARS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

VOL.    IV. 

TBE    ECCLESIASTICAL,    RELIGIOUS,    AND     MORAL 

LIFE  OF  CHRISTIANS  IN  THE  SECOND  AND 

THIRD  CENTURIES, 

PAGE 

Translator's  Preface        xvii 

Preface      xix 

BOOK  I. 
Ecclesiastical  Life  in  the  Second  and  Third  Centuries. 

CHAPTER  I. 
admission  of  converts  into  the  church— schools  of 

catechumens— BAPTISM. 

Character  of  the  Church  of  the  Second  and  Third  Centuries,  i  ; 
Beginnings  of  change,  2,  §1.  The  Catechumens,  3  ;  Prehminary 
Examination  of  Candidates,  9  ;  Object  of  Catechetical  Teaching, 
16  ;  Second  Examination  of  Catechumens,  17  ;  Prayer  for  the 
Catechumens,  18;  Third  Examination,  19.  §2.  Admission  into 
the  Church  by  Baptism,  19  ;  Ceremony  of  Baptism,  20  ;  Baptism 
of  Adults  the  Rule,  21  ;  Moral  Character  of  the  Ceremony,  22-5  ; 
Celebration  of  Baptism,  25  ;  Simplicity  of  the  Rite  in  the  time  of 


VI 11 


THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 


lustin  25  ;  Days  fixed  for  Baptism,  2$;  Places  of  its  Celebration, 
26  ;  Details  of  the  Ceremony,  27  ;  Exorcism,  28  ;  Triple  Immersion, 
Profession  of  Faith,  22;  Public  Prayer  of  the  Neophyte,  30; 
Anointmg  with  Oil,  3h  32  ;  Effect  produced  by  the  Ceremony,  33 ; 
Antiquity  of  the  practice  of  Infant  Baptism,  34  ;  Exceptional  Bap- 
tisms, 35  ;  Sprinkling  gradually  takes  the  place  of  Immersion,  36. 

CHAPTER  II. 

ORGANISATION  OF  AUTHORITY   IN   THE  LOCAL  CHURCHES  TO  THE 
CLOSE    OF   THE   SECOND    CENTURY. 

§  I.  Modifications  in  the  idea  of  the  p:cclesiastical  Office  in  the 
course  of  the  second  century,  38  ;  Representative   character  of  the 
primitive  Ecclesiastical  Office,  39  ;  Ecclesiastical  Office  no  Priest- 
hood, 40  ;  Influence  of  the  Destruction  of  the  Temple  on  the  Eccle- 
siastical Office,  41  ;  Four  causes  of  the  transformation  in  the  same  : 
—  I.  Prodigious  Increase  of  the  Church.  2.  Persecution.  3.  Heresy, 
with  its  Sacerdotalism.  4.  Progress  of  the  legal  notion  of  Salvation, 
42-49;    Influence  of  the  great   Bishops  in  the  second   century - 
Ignatius,  Irenseus,  49,  50  ;    The   Bishop  begins  to  be  distinguished 
from  the  Elder,  51  ;  The  local  Church  in  the  years  A.D.  200-230,  3L 
?;  2.  Organisation  of  the  local  Church  at  the  beginning  of  the  third 
century,  51;    Universal   Priesthood,  51-2;    Primitive  meaning  of 
the  words  C/erg-j^  and   Order,  53  ;    Priesthood  of  the  Laity,  54 ; 
Piety  of  more  consideration  than  Ecclesiastical  Ofc.-,  55-7;  The 
Spirit  of   God  belongs  to  all  Christians,  57  ;  The   Bishop  is  the 
President  of  the  Elders,    58  ;  Every  Church,   small  or  great,  has 
its  Bishop,  58,  59;   Office  of  a  Bishop,  60,  61  ;  Searching  Exam- 
ination of  Candidates,  61  ;  Election  by  the  people  always  required, 
62 ;  Consecration  of  the  Bishop,  62,  63  ;    The  Elder  occupies  the 
second  rank,  64  ;    Election  and  Ordination  of  the  Elder,  65  ;    The 
Diaconate  devoted  specially  to  the  care  of  the  Poor,  66  ;  Part  taken 
by  the  Deacons  in  Baptism  and  the  Communion,  66  ;    Relations  of 
the  Three  Orders,  67  ;  Subdeacons,  Readers— Sanctity  attaching  to 
the  Confessors,  68, 69;  Mission  of  Women  in  the  Church— Widows, 
Elders,    Deaconesses,  Virgins— True  Greatness   of  the   Christian 
Woman,  69-73  ;   Material    Resources  of  the  Church,  73 ;  Gifts  en- 
tirely voluntary,  73  ;    No  regular  payment  of  the  Clergy   74  ;  Signs 
indicative  of  coming  changes,  75. 


CONTENTS.  IX 


CHAPTER  III. 


DISCIPLINE    IN   THE  LOCAL  CHURCH  AT  THE   BEGINNING  OF  THE 
THIRD    CENTURY. 

Discipline  in  the  Apostolic  Age,  76  ;  Disciplinary  organisation 
but  little  developed  in  ihe  second  century,  -]-]  ;  Its  development 
in  the  time  of  Tertullian,  78 ;  Simplicity  of  its  Organisation,  79  ; 
No  Clerical  Absolution,  80  ;  Prayers  for  Penitents,  80,  81  ;  The 
Penitent  is  commended  to  the  Divine  mercy,  81  ;  Confession 
made  to  the  Church,  not  to  the  Clergy,  82,  83 ;  Only  one  restoration 
allowed  after  Baptism,  84. 

CHAPTER  IV. 

MUTUAL  RELATIONS  OF  THE   CHURCHES  AT  THE  COMMENCEMENT 
OF   THE   THIRD   CENTURY. 

Spiritual  oneness  of  the  Churches  in  the  faith,  85  ;  No  outward 
and  visible  Catholicity,  86,  87  ;  The  Churches  exchange  Letters  (88) 
and  send  Delegates  from  one  to  the  other,  89  ;  Bond  of  Charity, 
90;  Relation  of  the  small  to  the  large  Churches,  91  ;  The  Apostolic 
Churches  the  guardians  of  tradition,  91  ;  First  Synods,  Free  Con- 
ferences, in  the  year  A.D.  150,  92,  93  ;  Synods  held  to  fix  the  date 
of  Easter,  94  ;  Authoritative  Synod  of  Caesarea,  95  ;  Resistance 
of  Polycrates  of  Ephesus  to  Victor  of  Rome,  96,  97  ;  Resistance 
of  many  Bishops  to  the  Bishop  of  Rome,  98  ;  Letters  from  Irenaeus 
and  from  several  other  Bishops  to  Victor,  98  ;  Liberty  in  Unity,  99. 

CHAPTER  V. 

THE    ECCLESIASTICAL     CRISIS    OF     THE     THIRD     CENTURY — ITS 
GENERAL  FEATURES— REACHES   ITS   CLIMAX  AT  ALEXANDRIA. 

§  I.  General  Character  of  the  Crisis,  100,  loi  ;  Development  of 
disciplinary  authority,  102  ;  Debates  in  the  Churches  on  the  subject 
of  DiscipHne,  102  ;  Episcopal  authority  defended  against  Schism, 
103.  §  2.  The  Ecclesiastical  Crisis  at  Alexandria,  104  ;  The  Bishop 
is  at  first  one  of  the  Elders,  105  ;  Change  of  Ancient  Organisation 
106;  Inevitable  Contest  between  Demetrius  and  Origen,  106; 
Ecclesiastical  liberalism  of  Origen,  107-12  ;  Demetrius  forbids 
Origen  to  preach,  113;  Origen  raised  to  the  office  of  Elder  in 
Syria,  114;  His  condemnation  in  two  Councils  at  Alexandria, 
1 14-15  ;  Grave  Attack  on  the  privileges  of  the  Churches,  1 16-18. 


X  THE   EARLY   CHRISTIAN   CHURCH. 

CHAPTER  VI. 

THE    CRISIS    IN    ROME. 

Influence  of  Montanism  in  Rome,  119-21  ;  Opposition  of  Mon- 
tanism  to  the  Clerical  Party,  122-23  ;  The  Conflict  declared  under 
Victor,  A.D.  185-197,  124;  The  Heretic  Praxeas  denounces  Mon- 
tanism, 124;  Montanism  condemned  by  Victor,  124  ;  The  Conflict 
deepens  under  Zephyrinus,  A.D.  197,  125  ;  Intrigues  of  Callisthus, 
126;  Arrival  of  Tertullian  in  Rome,  127;  His  Controversy  with 
the  Roman  Clergy,  128;  His  extreme  severity,  129;  He  opposes 
the  Decree  conferring  the  power  of  the  keys — He  disputes  the 
primacy  of  the  Bishop  of  Rome — He  maintains  that  God  alone  holds 
the  power  of  the  keys,  131-33  ;  Callisthus  raised  to  the  Bishopric 
of  Rome,  134;  Hippolytus  resists  his  usurpations,  135  ;  Callisthus 
confirms  and  adds  to  the  Decree  of  Zephyrinus,  136  ;  Callisthus 
advocates  the  abrogation  of  all  discipline,  137;  Powerful  opposi- 
tion of  Hippolytus,  138  ;  Triumph  of  Callisthus,  139. 

CHAPTER  Vir. 

THE   ECCLESIASTICAL  CRISIS   IN  THE  TIME  OF  CYPRIAN. 

First  successes  of  Montanism  at  Carthage,  A.D.  207,  141  ;  Mon- 
tanism never  formally  condemned  there,  142  ;  The  hierarchical 
party  triumphs  under  Cyprian,  143.  §  i.  First  phase  of  the  contest 
during  the  persecution  under  Decius,  144;  Opposition  of  five  priests 
to  the  election  of  Cyprian,  145  ;  Novatus  raises  Felicissimus  to  the 
diaconate,  146  ;  Cyprian,  not  having  been  consulted,  remonstrates 
strongly,  147  ;  Contest  renewed  on  the  question  of  discipline,  147  ; 
Cyprian  moderates  his  former  severity,  148,  149  ;  It  still  appears 
excessive  to  his  opponents,  148,  149  ;  The  opponents  appeal  to  the 
Confessors,  150;  Extravagant  influence  of  the  Confessors,  151  ; 
Their  exaltation — They  pretend  to  remit  sins  in  their  own  name,  and 
write  countless  letters  of  pardon,  151-55  ;  Cyprian  sends  a  protest 
to  them,  156  ;  He  addresses  his  own  clergy  and  his  flock,  156  ;  He 
writes  to  the  clergy  and  martyrs  of  Rome — His  conduct  is  by  them 
approved,  1 57, 1 58.  §  2.  Second  phase  of  the  struggle  after  the  return 
of  Cyprian  to  Carthage,  159  ;  Felicissimus  refuses  to  submit  to  epis- 
copal supervision,  160  ;  Schism  is  condemned  in  three  councils, 
160  ;  Episcopal  Interim  in  Rome,  161-63  5  Novatian  appears  as  the 


CONTENTS.  Xi 

head  of  the  opposition,  164;  Accusations  against  him,  164;  His 
letter  to  Cyprian  during  the  Interim,  165,166;  His  comparative 
moderation,  167  ;  Cornelius  is  appointed  Bishop  of  Rome,  168  ; 
Novatian  becomes  the  Bishop  of  the  Schismatics,  169-71  ;  Cyprian 
opposes  him,  172  ;  He  seeks  to  restore  the  African  Schismatics,  173  ; 
The  Confessors  in  Rome  abandon  Novatian,  174 ;  He  is  condemned 
in  the  Council  of  Rome,  a.d.  252,  175  ;  Schism  is  subdued  in  the 
East  and  in  Gaul,  176  ;  Common  error  of  the  two  parties,  177.  §  3. 
Controversy  of  Cyprian  with  the  See  of  Rome  on  the  question  of 
the  Baptism  of  Heretics— The  discussion  turns  on  heretical  bap- 
tism, 178 ;  Stephen  recognises  such  baptism  in  spite  of  Cyprian,  179 ; 
Cyprian  opposes  Scripture  to  tradition,  179-81  ;  Cyprian  denies 
the  supremacy  of  Peter,  182  ;  Violent  reproaches  addressed  by 
Cyprian  to  Stephen,  183  ;  Two  African  councils  support  him,  184; 
Protest  of  Firmilianus  against  Stephen,  185  ;  Fresh  resistance  to 
the  Bishop  of  Rome,  185.  §  4.  Progress  made  by  the  hierarchical 
episcopal  party  at  the  death  of  Cyprian,  186-92  ;  Last  councils  of 
the  Third  Century,  192  ;  Cyprian  makes  the  priesthood  a  sacerdotal 
office,  190  ;  Episcopalism  of  the  Apostolical  Constitutions  of  the 
Third  Century,  191  ;  Universal  rejection  of  the  Roman  primacy, 
192  ;  Independence  of  the  councils,  193  ;  No  infallibilityof  councils, 
194;  Councils  subordinate  to  Scripture,  194;  They  are  still  free 
conferences,  195  ;  No  condemnation  of  the  heretics  as  a  body,  195  ; 
Grave  innovation  in  the  third  Synod  of  Antioch,  leading  to  the 
Ecumenical  Councils  of  the  following  centuries,  196-98. 


BOOK  II. 

Private  and  Public  Worship  in  the  Churches  of  the 
Second  and  Third  Centuries. 

CHAPTER  I. 

FIRST  changes   IN   PRIMITIVE  WORSHIP. 

Fundamental  idea  of  worship,  202,  203  ;  Character  of  Pagan  wor- 
ship, 204 ;  Character  of  Jewish  worship,  205  ;  Christian  worship, 
206  ;  Its  primitive  spirituality,  207-10 ;  The  Lord's  Supper  sepa- 
rated from  the  Agape,  211;  No  essential  deviation  from  the 
original  type,  212-16. 


Xli  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH, 

CHAPTER  II. 
WORSHIP    IN   THE    HOME. 

Prayer  in  private  worship — Prayer  the  epitome  of  the  life — The 
true  Christian  sacrifice — Christian  hfe  is  a  prayer,  218-21  ;  The 
Lord's  Prayer  a  type,  not  a  formulary,  222  ;  Hours  of  prayer — 
Morning  and  evening  prayer,  223,  224.;  Attitude  of  prayer,  225; 
Reading  of  the  Holy  Scriptures,  226 ;  Sacerdotal  character  of 
prayer,  227 ;  Prayer  in  the  family — Grace  at  meals,  228  ;  Hymns  of 
the  family,  229  ;  Morning  and  evening  prayers,  230  ;  The  Wednes- 
day and  Saturday  fast,  231  ;  Prayer  the  consecration  of  hospitahty, 
232  ;  Christianity  by  the  fireside,  233. 

CHAPTER  III. 

DAYS  AND   BUILDINGS   SET  APART   FOR   PUBLIC  WORSHIP. 

§  I.  The  Lord's  Day  and  the  Christian  festival,  234  ;  Necessities  of 
public  worship,  235  ;  Days  of  vigil,  236  ;  The  solemn  worship  of  the 
Lord's  Day,  227  ;  The  Sabbath  long  observed  also — The  Lord's  Day 
not  a  substitute  for  the  Sabbath,  237 ;  Joyous  character  of  worship  on 
the  Lord's  Day,  238  ;  No  fixed  rule  for  cessation  from  work  on  that 
day,  240  ;  Easter  and  Pentecost  celebrated  in  the  second  century, 
241  ;  No  formahsm  in  the  Christian  festival,  241  ;  Epiphany  cele- 
brated in  the  third  century,  243  ;  Anniversaries  of  the  martyrs, 
244  ;  Funeral  anniversaries  in  Christian  families,  245  ;  Simplicity 
of  the  Christian  feasts  246;  White  garments— Sacred  torches,  247. 
§  2.  Buildings  dedicated  to  Christian  worship,  248  ;  The  idea  of  the 
temple  properly  so  called  done  away,  249  ;  Any  place  may  be  con- 
secrated to  worship,  250;  First  public  buildings  for  worship,  251  ; 
Their  increase  in  the  third  century,  252  ;  The  idea  of  the  Chris- 
tian sanctuary  defined,  253  ;  The  service,  not  the  building,  is  holy, 
254;  Plan  of  hours  of  prayer,  255;  Information  derived  from  the 
first  basilicas,  256;  Separation  of  the  faithful  from  those  who  are 
hearers  only,  257  ;  Vestibule  for  hearers  and  penitents,  258  ;  Separa- 
tion of  the  sexes— The  pulpit,  259 ;  The  Eucharistic  Table,  260 ;  The 
well  outside,  261  ;  Prohibition  of  images,  261,  262. 


CONTENTS.  XIU 

CHAPTER   IV. 

THE    Cl'LEBRATION     OF     WOR5HIP     IN    THE    SECOND    AND    THIRD 
CENTURIES— ITS    CHANGES   DURING  THIS    PERIOD. 

§  I.  Public  Worship  in  the  time  of  Justin  MaVtyr  and  Irenaeus — 
The  Eucharist  the  Centre  of  Worship,  263,  264  ;  Prayer  the 
Great  Eucharistic  Sacritice,  265  ;  Worship  in  the  time  of  Justin 
Martyr,  266 ;  No  Separation  as  yet  between  the  Hearers  and  the 
Faithful,  267  ;  Invocation.  Reading  of  the  Scriptures,  268  ;  Preach- 
ing, Silent  Prayer,  Intercession,  269 ;  The  Kiss  of  Peace — Offerings 
of  the  P^aithful,  270 ;  The  Bread  and  Wine,  the  First  Fruits  of 
Creation,  271;  Twofold  Incarnation  of  the  Word,  according  to 
Irensus — Creation  and  Redemption  united  in  the  Eucharist,  272  ; 
Two  Eucharistic  Prayers,  273  ;  Distribution  of  the  Bread  and  Wine, 
274;  Closing  Hymn,  275.  §  2.  Public  Worship  in  the  Third  Cen- 
tury--Changes  in  Worship  in  the  Third  Century,  276 ;  Separation 
between  Communicants  and  Hearers,  277  ;  Change  in  the  idea  of 
the  Lord's  Supper,  278  ;  It  ceases  to  be  eucharistic,  and  assumes 
an  expiatory  character,  279-84  ;  Worship  not  yet  corrupted,  285. 

CHAPTER  V. 

ARCHEOLOGY   OF  THE   VARIOUS   ACTS   OF   PUBLIC   WORSHIP. 

§  I.  Public  Prayer— Outward  Form  of  Public  Prayer,  288  ;  Sim- 
plicity and  Abundance  of  Public  Prayers,  289  ;  Prayer  always  offered 
in  the  Vulgar  Tongue,  289,  290  ;  Freedom  of  Prayer,  291 ;  The  Lord's 
Prayer  not  imposed  as  a  Formula,  292  ;  Prayer  often  Addressed  to 
Jesus  Christ,  294 ;  Prayer  never  addressed  to  creatures,  295  ;  The 
Amen  of  the  Assembly,  286 ;  The  Hallelujah,  Hosanna,  Kyrie, 
297  ;  Gloria,  Oremus,  the  Hymn,  298.  §  2.  Sacred  Song  and  the 
Reading  of  the  Scriptures— The  Psalms,  the  first  songs  of  the  Church, 
299»  300  ;  Morning  and  Evening  Psalms,  301  ;  Psalm  for  Good 
Friday,  301  ;  Christian  Hymns,  302,303  ;  Hymns  addressed  to  God, 
304;  Hymns  of  the  Heretics,  305  ;  Akernating  Chants,  306;  Sim- 
plicity of  the  Vocal  .Music  of  the  Greeks,  306.  307;  Christian  Music, 
308;  The  primitive  simplicity  of  the  Hymn  long  preserved — Read- 
ing of  Holy  Scripture,  309  ;  No  fixed  portions  except  for  Feast 
Days,  310.  §  3.  Preaching  :  its  importance  in  the  Church,  311,  312; 
Development  of  Preaching,  313  ;  The  Homily  older  than  the  Ser- 
mon, 314;    Practical  Character  of  the  Preaching,  315  ;    Directness 


XIV  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

of  Exhortation,  316,  317  ;  Apologetic  Discourses — Panegyrics,  318; 
Frequent  subtilty  of  thought,  319;  First  changes  in  the  Character 
of  Preaching,  320.  §  4.  The  Agape.  Various  Benedictions  and 
Funeral  Rites,  322  ;  The  Nuptial  Benediction,  323. 

CHAPTER  VI. 

CELEBRATION   OF   CHRISTIAN  WORSHIP  IN  THE  THIRD   CENTURY 
IN   THE   CHURCH   OF  ALEXANDRIA. 

Worship  at  Alexandria  in  the  Third  Century,  325  ;  The  Assembly 
gathers  in  silence,  326;  Prayers,  Psalm,  Preaching,  ^2/  ;  A  Homily 
of  Origen's,  327-31  ;  Prayer  of  the  Assembly,  331,  332  ;  Prayer  of  the 
Bishop,  332  ;  The  Catechumens  and  the  Hearers  retire,  332 ;  The 
Offertory — The  kiss  of  peace — Eucharistic  Prayer  of  the  Bishop, 
3345  335  ;  Another  Intercessory  Prayer,  335,  336 ;  Prayer  for  de- 
parted Christians,  337  ;  The  Bishop  pronounces  the  words  of  the 
Institution,  337  ;  The  Lord's  Prayer,  337 ;  Singing  of  the  Eucha- 
ristic Psalms,  340;  The  Bread  and  Wine  passed  around,  340; 
Closing  Benediction,  341  ;  General  character  of  worship  before 
Nicaea,  341 ;  Harmony  between  Christian  worship  and  the  Life,  342 


BOOK  III. 

The  Moral  Life  of  the  Christians  of  the  Third  and 
Fourth  Centuries. 

CHAPTER  L 

THE  principle  OF  THE  MORAL  REFORM  WROUGHT  BY  THE 
CHURCH  COMPARED  WITH  THE  ATTEMPTS  AT  SOCIAL  RE- 
NOVATION  IN  THE   ROMAN   EMPIRE. 

§  I.  Principle  of  the  social  reforms  of  the  Church,  345 ;  Prin- 
ciple of  its  moral  reform,  347  ;  The  claims  of  humanity  conse- 
crated by  the  gospel,  349;  The  family  relation  extended  and 
purified,  349-51.  §  2.  The  Pagan  Family,  351,  352;  Religious  Basis 
of  the  Pagan  Family,  353  ;  The  worship  of  the  Manes,  354  ;  Exclu- 
siveness  of  family  rights,  355  ;  The  right  of  Man  as  Man  unknown, 
356,  357;  Powerful  influence  of  the  Religious  Idea,  358;  Religion 
purely  political,  359 ;  Religion  mere  ritual,  360  ;  Everything  made 
subordinate  to  the  public  good,  361  ;  Contrast  between  Justice  and 


CONTENTS.  XV 

Equity,  361,  362  ;  Gradual  demoralisation  of  the  family,  363;  The 
Plays  of  Terence,  366  ;  Influence  of  the  Roman  Conquest,  367  ; 
Elevation  of  Stoical  morality,  368,  369 ;  Its  powerlessness  to  reform 
society,  370-73  ;  Inanity  of  the  Reforms  of  Augustus,  374;  Partial 
reforms  effected  under  the  Antonines,  375-77  ;  Institution  of  the 
Empire  opposed  to  all  reforms,  371  ;  Total  loss  of  civic  rights,  379 ; 
The  old  inequality  continues,  380;  Growing  Degradation  of  the 
third  estate,  381,  382  ;  Corruption  of  manners,  383  ;  The  "  Golden 
Ass"  of  Apuleius,  384;  The  " Satyricon "  of  Petronius,  385;  Luxury 
and  effeminacy  of  Rome  and  Pompeii,  386-93. 

CHAPTER  II. 

CHRISTIANITY  AND  THE    FAMILY. 

The  claims  of  humanity  receive  sanction  in  the  Christian  family, 
394-96  ;  Moral  equality  of  man  and  woman,  397,  398  ;  A  common 
faith  is  indispensable  in  marriage,  399,400;  Divorce  only  allowed 
in  cases  of  adultery,  401  ;  Beauty  of  Christian  marriage,  402  ;  The 
Christian  Mother,  403  ;  Education  of  the  Children,  404 ;  Reforma- 
tion of  manners,  405  ;  Christian  Chastity,  405  ;  Simplicity  of  Dress 
among  Christian  women,  406  ;  Frugality  of  living,  407  ;  Christian 
hospitality,  408  ;  Arrangement  of  the  Christian  work,  Domestic  wor- 
ship, 409-12.  §  2.  The  Christian  family  and  the  poor,  413  ;  Change 
in  the  idea  of  property,  414 ;  Breadth  of  Christian  charity,  415-19. 


CHAPTER  III. 

CHRISTIANITY  AND   ITS   RELATIONS  TO  SLAVERY  AND  FREE 
LABOUR. 

§  I.  Christianity  and  slavery— Slavery  inseparable  from  the  life  of 
the  ancient  city,  421  ;  The  man  sacrificed  to  the  citizen,  421  ;  The 
slave  without  rights  or  duties,  422  ;  Aristotle  justifies  slavery,  423  ; 
Amelioration  of  the  imperial  legislation,  424  ;  Inadequacy  of  these 
changes,  425  ;  Frequent  despair  of  the  slaves,  426  ;  The  virtue  of 
the  slave  not  protected,  427 ;  Enfranchisements  do  not  touch 
slavery  as  an  institution,  428  ;  The  freed  woman  left  unprotected, 
429  ;  Slaves  in  town  and  country,  430 ;  Christianity  is  redemption, 


XVI  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

431  ;  The  Church  did  not  preach  revolt,  432;  Christianity  morally 
abrogates  slavery,  433 ;  The  slave  protected  and  taught,  434  ;  All 
inequalities  lost  in  a  common  worship,  435  ;  The  slave  admitted  to 
hold  office  in  the  Church,  436  ;  Mr*ters  and  slaves  instructing  each 
other,  437  ;  Marriage  of  slaves  respected,  438  ;  Right  of  the  slave 
to  resist  wrong,  438  ;  Slave  martyrs,  439  ;  Christianity  tends  to 
abolish  slavery,  ^140  ;  The  union  of  the  Church  with  the  Empire 
delayed  reform,  441.  §  4.  Christianity  and  free  labour,  442  ; 
Slavery  associated  with  free  labour,  443  ;  Manual  labour  despised, 
445  ;  The  Church  exalts  manual  labour,  446. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

CHRISTIANITY    IN    ITS    RELATIONS    WITH    THE    STATE   AND   WITH 

SOCIETY. 

§  I.  Christianity  in  its  relations  with  the  State, 448  ;  The  individual 
ignored  in  the  ancient  State,  449  ;  Enfranchisement  of  the  Christian 
conscience,  450  ;  The  man  raised  above  the  citizen,  451  ;  The  State 
acknowledged  as  a  Divine  institution,  452  ;  Iniquitous  laws  have  no 
sanction,  453  ;  Christians  recognise  the  tribunals,  454  ;  They  may 
fill  public  offices,  455  ;  Difficulty  of  military  service,  455  ;  The 
Church  does  not  interdict  it,  but  it  must  not  be  chosen  voluntarily. 
456  ;  Opposition  to  wars  of  conquest,  457. 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE   CHURCH   AND   SOCIAL    LIFE— THE   THEATRE — ART. 

§  L  The  theatre, 459;  Its  growing  corruption,  460;  The  circus,  461 ; 
The  Church  condemns  the  Pagan  theatre,  464  ;  Sophistries  pleaded 
in  its  favour,  465;  Reply  of  Tertullian.  466  ;  Condemnation  of  all  con- 
nected with  it,  467  ;  Christianity  creates  a  new  school  of  art,  468  ; 
Only  the  Ascetics  condemn  art  in  itself,  469  ;  Beauty  a  reflection  of 
God,  471;  Meretricious  beauty  alone  condemned,  472  ;  Love  the 
highest  beauty,  473  ;  Beauty  mainly  in  expression,  475  ;  Influence  of 
Christianity  on  literature  powerful  though  only  incidental,  474  ;  New 
inspiration  of  poetry,  475. 


CONTENTS.  XVll 

CHAPTER  VI. 
CHRISTIANITY   AND   ASCETICISM. 

Intrusion  of  Asceticism  into  Judaism,  478  ;  Asceticism  foreign 
to  primitive  Christianity,  480 ;  Clement  of  Alexandria  exalts  mar- 
riage above  celibacy,  482  ;  Marriage  of  the  clergy,  483  ;  Ascetic 
tendency  of  Apocryphal  literature,  484 ;  Influence  of  Montanism, 
485  ;  Influence  of  the  demonology  of  the  Fathers,  485  ;  Perfection, 
an  exceptional  standard,  486  ;  The  evangelical  counsel,  486 ;  Dis- 
approval of  second  marriages,  487  ;  Celibacy  placed  above  mar- 
riage, 489  ;  Marriage  allowed  as  the  common  rule,  490  ;  Progress 
of  Asceticism  in  the  third  century,  491  ;  Fasting,  492;  Austere 
simphcity  in  dress,  493. 

CHAPTER  VII. 

THE   CHRISTIANITY   OF   THE   CATACOMBS, 

Principal  Catacombs,  495  ;  Origin  of  the  Catacombs,  496  ;  Great 
Roman  names  in  the  Catacombs,  497  ;  No  trace  of  social  dis- 
tinctions, 499  ;  Free  labour  honoured  in  the  Catacombs,  499  ;  Glori- 
fication of  the  Martyrs,  500;  Privileges  granted  by  the  Empire  to 
Burial  Clubs.  502  ;  The  Christians  avail  themselves  of  these,  503  ; 
The  Christian  family  in  the  Catacombs,  505  ;  The  Credo  of  the 
Catacombs,  507  ;   Art  in  the  Catacombs,  510.  Conclusion,  515. 


NOTES   AND    EXPLANATIONS. 

Note  A.  On  the  separation  between  the  Agape  and  the  Lord's 
Supper,  by  decree  of  Pliny  the  Younger  523. 

Note  B.  The  first  public  prayer  of  the  Church  of  Rome,  from 
the  conclusion  of  the  Epistle  of  Clement,  in  the  MS.  discovered  at 
Constantinople,  525. 

Note  C.  The  Canon  of  the  Council  of  Laodicea  on  Silent  Prayer, 
528. 

Note  D.  The  recent  paper  of  Overbeck  on  the  Church  and 
Slavery,  528. 


PREFACE. 


The  appearance  of  this  closing  volume  of  my  History 
of  the  First  Three  Centuries  of  the  Christian  Church 
has  been  long  delayed,  from  causes  which  readers  will 
readily  understand.  Its  subject  is  the  ecclesiastical, 
religious,  and  moral  life  of  the  Church  in  the  second 
and  third  centuries.  It  contains,  first,  an  account  of 
the  organisation  of  the  Church,  of  its  growth  by  means 
of  the  schools  of  catechumens,  of  its  local^  institu- 
tions and  discipline,  of  the  bond  of  unity  among  the 
various  sections  of  Christendom,  and  of  the  great  con- 
flict between  the  old  spirit  of  liberty  and  the  rising 
hierarchy.  The  invaluable  documents  now  open  to  us, 
especially  the  "  Constitution  of  the  Church  of  Alexan- 
dria," discovered  in  the  Coptic  tongue  a  few  years  ago, 
and  the  "  Philosophoumena,"  have  given  an  entirely 
new  aspect  to  the  subject,  and  have  enabled  us  to 
watch,  as  it  were  with  our  own  eyes,  the  entire  working 
of  that  organisation  which  so  admirably  combined  order 
with  liberty.  Christian  worship,  so  beautiful  in  its  sim- 
plicity and  spirituality  in  the  second  century,  but  under- 
going a  gradual  transformation  in  the  third,  is  the 
subject  of  the  second  part.  The  third  and  last  treats  of 
the  great   moral   and    social    reformation    wrought    by 


XXll  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

Christianity,  first  in  the  family,  and  afterwards  in  the 
institutions  and  customs  of  social  Hfe.  It  is  a  subject 
of  pecuhar  interest,  especially  since  the  appearance  in 
the  last  few  years  of  several  important  works  on  the 
social  conditions  of  ancient  Rome,  to  determine  what 
share  is  due  to  Stoicism  in  the  modification  and  human- 
isation  of  Roman  law,  and  how  far  its  renovation  is  to 
be  traced  to  the  influence  of  Christianity. 

It  is  impossible  to  read  the  history  of  the  early  ages 
of  the  Church  without  noticing  how  Christianity  under- 
goes the  same  transformation  in  the  three  phases  of  its 
life — the  ecclesiastical,  the  religious,  and  the  moral. 
In  all  it  is  characterised  at  first  by  a  deep  spirituality, 
which  imparts  a  grand  unity  to  the  whole.  While 
every  other  form  of  religion,  finding  itself  incapable  of 
controlling  and  transfusing  the  entire  life,  had  remained 
a  thing  apart,  entrenched  behind  the  barrier  which 
divided  the  sacred  from  the  profane,  primitive  Chris- 
tianity made  every  man  a  priest,  every  home  a  sanc- 
tuary, and  consecrated  every  day  and  every  act  of 
common  life  to  the  service  of  God.  It  was  therefore 
directly  opposed  to  the  idea  of  a  priestly  class,  or  even  of 
a  sanctuary  in  the  Jewish  sense  of  the  word,  and  repu- 
diated the  notion  of  an  ascetic  saintliness  incompatible 
with  family  life.  We  shall  show  that  all  its  primitive 
institutions  are  animated  by  this  spirit;  and  shall  show 
further  how  rapid  and  certain  was  its  decline  so  soon  as 
it  lost  sight  of  this  great  principle,  whether  in  its  eccle- 
siastical, social,  or  moral  life.  We  shall  have  to  trace 
the  fatal  steps  by  which,  having  once  abandoned  this 
sublime  spirituality,  it  was  led  to  restore  the  obsolete 
distinctions  between   sacred  and  profane,  to  set   up   a 


PREFACE.  XXlll 

new  priesthood,  a  new  ritualism,  more  or  less  Judaic, 
and  a  new  ascetic  standard  of  perfection.  It  is  very 
important  to  note  the  gradual  transitions  out  of  which 
arose  that  powerful  hierarchical  system  which  became, 
triumphant  in  the  fourth  century.  The  history  of  these 
transitions  forms  the  subject  of  the  closing  portion  of 
this  work. 

I  have  not  written  from  a  sectarian  point  of  view.  I 
have  not  endeavoured  to  find  the  Church  to  which  I 
myself  am  attached  in  that  great  past  which  does  not 
correspond  exactly  to  any  of  the  forms  of  the  Chris- 
tianity of  our  day.  I  have  shunned  any  approach  to 
controversy.  But  it  remains  indisputably  evident  that 
there  is  no  trace  whatever  in  the  early  ages  of  that 
powerful  centralisation  in  which  Ultramontanism 
glories.  It  is  inconceivable  to  me  where  it  could  find  a 
footing  in  a  Church  in  which  all  the  ofiicers  are  elec- 
tive, and  whose  various  sections  act  with  perfect  inde- 
pendence, not  receiving  their  commands  from  any 
superior  power,  and  each  preserving  its  individual 
freedom,  while  all  holding  in  its  essential  unity  the 
common  faith.  Cardinal  Manning  showed  his  wit  and  his 
prudence  when  he  exclaimed  that  he  hoped  the  Council 
would  deliver  us  from  history.  I  can  well  believe  that 
history  is  a  terribly  embarrassi.ig  thing  to  his  school, 
but  it  is  not  possible  to  silence  this  many-tongued  wit- 
ness. It  is  our  part,  as  Christians  of  various  shades  of 
belief,  and  as  intelligent  thinkers,  to  listen  to  the  voice 
of  history,  and  not  to  make  it  speak  our  own  words. 
Orthodoxy  bows  before  the  majesty  of  facts,  and  in  this 
domain  the  only  heresy  is  inaccuracy. 

I    do    not    pretend,   however,  to    have    treated   this 


XXIV  THE   EARLY   CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

history  of  primitive  Christianity  with  that  cold  impar- 
tiahty   which   excludes   all    sympathy.     I    feel   myself 
essentially  one  with  the  disciples  of  the  new  religion, 
and  it  has  been  impossible   to   me  to   describe  their 
ecclesiastical  and  religious  life  with  the  cold  eye  of  a 
mere  onlooker,  though  I  have  been  careful  not  to  give 
the  blind   admiration    of  the  partisan.     It  is  only  by 
sympathy,   I  believe,  that    we   can  really    understand 
this   great   movement,    and    appreciate    its    influence 
upon  the  destinies  of  the  modern  world.     A  dry  cata- 
logue  of  facts,   or   a  minute  analysis  of  ideas,  is  in- 
sufficient to  make  us  apprehend  its  spirit.    We  need,  as 
it  were,  to  breathe  the  same  fervid  atmosphere  in  which 
these  men  fought  one  of  the  grandest  battles  of  history  ; 
we  need  to  know  how  they  prayed  before  they  fought 
and  fell  for  their  faith.     The  older  I  grow,  the  firmer  is 
my   conviction  that  the  great  truths  they   held   were 
vital  and   eternal   truths.     This  history,  begun  twenty 
years  ago  in  the  brave  days  of  youth,  has  been  inter- 
rupted by  the  hot  struggles  of  public  life  in  one  of  the 
most  painful  and  difficult  crises  of  our  national  history. 
I  conclude  it  with  a  firmer  persuasion  than  ever  that 
the  nineteenth  century  has  as  much  need  of  the  Chris- 
tianity of  the  gospel  as  the  first,  and  that  our  effort  must 
be  to  rise  above  the  petty  systems  in  which  eternal  truth 
is  often  held  captive  by  the  Churches  of  our  day,  and  to 
grasp  it  in  its  grand  primeval  type.     It  is  only  at  such 
an  altitude  that  religious  faith  and  freedom  of  thought 
meet  and  coalesce. 

E.  DE  PRESSENSi;. 

Paris,  1877. 


BOOK    FIRST. 

ECCLESTASTICAL  LIFE  IN  THE  SECOND  AND 
THIRD  CENTURIES. 


CHRISTIAN   LIFE   AND   PRACTICE 

IN    THE 

EARLY  CHURCH. 


BOOK    FIRST. 

ECCLESIASTICAL  LIFE   IN  THE   SECOND   AND 
THIRD    CENTURIES. 

CHAPTER    I. 

ADMISSION    TO    CHURCH     MEMBERSHIP — THE     TRAINING 
OF    THE    CATECHUMENS — BAPTISM. 

In  the  earlier  volumes  of  this  work  we  have  traced  the 
fruitful  labours,  sufferings,,  and  conquests  of  the  Church, 
and  its  controversy  with  obsolete  doctrines ;  in  a  word, 
the  great  conflict  between  the  old  world  and  the  new. 
We  have  further  seen  how  Christian  thought  went 
on  developing  itself  in  the  midst  of  many  adverse  in- 
fluences, sometimes  suffering  indeed  from  alien  con- 
tact, but  in  the  end  rising  above  all  that  would  falsify 
its  spirit  or  impede  its  progress.  We  enter  in  the 
present  volume  on  the  history  of  the  organization  of 
the  Church,  its  government,  worship,  religious  life,  its 
various  manifestations  collective  and  individual,  in  the 
home  and  in  the  manifold  relations  of  society. 


4  THE    ilAliLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

This  is  the  hit.tory  of  piety  in  its  heroic  age  ;  it  is 
also  the  history  of  the  first  deflections  of  religious 
thought.  We  shall  discover  in  this  sphere  the  same 
deleterious  influences  which  we  have  already  noted  in 
the  domain  of  doctrine,  the  same  reactionary  struggle 
of  the  old  world  to  recover  little  by  little,  though  it 
might  never  wholly  reconquer,  its  lost  ground.  Error, 
whether  practical  or  doctrinal,  was  however  always 
held  in  check  so  long  as  the  Church  retained  her 
liberty ;  in  every  new  form  it  met  with  powerful  oppo- 
sition ;  the  true  spirit  of  Christianity  never  ceased 
to  resist  all  which  tended  to  vitiate  or  to  enslave  it. 
As  a  whole,  the  picture  of  the  Christianity  of  the 
second  and  third  centuries  stands  in  striking  contrast 
with  that  of  the  Church  some  centuries  later.* 

*  Our  principal  authorities  for  the  organization  of  the  Churches  at  this 
period  are,  first,  the  Avritings  of  the  contemporary  Fathers,  and  next  the 
'"■  Apostolical  Constitutions. "  Some  explanations  are  necessary  as  to  the 
composition,  date,  and  authenticity  of  the  latter  work.  We  have  first  a 
collection  in  eight  books,  called  the  "  Apostolical  Constitutions."  A  care- 
ful study  shows  that  these  eight  books  form,  in  reality,  three  collections  ; 
the  first  composed  of  the  first  six  books,  the  second  of  the  seventh,  and 
the  third  of  the  eighth,  for  all  the  three  treat  of  the  same  subject.  We 
have,  besides,  a  fourth  collection,  namely,  the  Coptic  edition  of  the  "Con- 
stitutions of  the  Church  of  Alexandria,"  discovered  by  a  learned  English- 
man named  Tattam.  The  other  collections  exist  both  in  Coptic  and  Greek 
text  :  the  former  is  the  more  ancient.  An  attentive  comparison  of  them 
has  proved  to  us  that  the  interpolations  are  all  in  support  of  sacerdotal  and 
hierarchical  ideas.  We  may  refer  further  to  the  "Constitutions  of  the 
Church  of  Abyssinia,"  -which  are  of  a  later  date,  since  this  Church  was 
only  founded  in  the  fourth  century  ;  and  to  the  "  Constitutions  of  the 
Church* of  Antioch,"  in  Syriac,  not  yet  published.  All  these  various  col- 
lections treat  of  the  discipline  of  the  catechumens,  of  the  government  of 
the  Church,  and  its  worship,  and  contain  directions  for  the  religious  life. 
This  is  an  authority  of  the  highest  value.  The  date  of  the  four  principal 
collections  of  the  "Apostolical  Constitutions,"  without  the  interjDolations, 
is  anterior  to  the  council  of  Nicaa,  as  is  shown  by  the  following  passages  : 
I.  Irenseus,  "  Fragment  of  Pfaff."  It  is  agreed  to  apply  to  the  "  Constitu- 
tions "  that  which  he  says  of  the  ftirlpotf,'  'i'i^v  (iTroaro^iov  diaTaS,fat.  2.  Eu- 
sibiup,  "II.E.,''iii.  25:  tCjv  cnrooToXhn'  a'l  Xeynfitjai  ^iSaxai-  3-  Athanasius, 
"  In  F]ns'ola  Festali,"  39  (vol.  i.  edit.  Benedict.)  :  dicax^i)  KaXov^hn]  tC)v 
iir<vor^\iur.  4.  Epiphanius  quotes  them  positively  ("Hoeres.,"  45,  5  ;  70,  10; 


TRAINING    OF    THE    CATECHUMENS.  5 

§  I. — The  Training  of  the  Catechumens. 

We  have  already  described  the  state  of  the  Churches 
in  the  transition  period.  In  theory,  the  constitution  of 
the  Church  remained  as  it  was  in  the  time  of  the 
Apostle  John.  In  fact,  it  had  undergone  various  modi- 
fications, the  natural  result  of  the  stern  and  awful  crisis 
of  persecution. 

In  the  latter  part  of  the  second  century,  we  find 
a  new  condition  of  things;  the  priestly  ideas  which, 
while  the   martyr-furnaces  were   blazing,  were  present 

75,  6;  80,  7).  We  find  also  a  quotation  from  the  "  Apostolical  Constitutions  " 
in  the  "Opus  Imperfectum,"  ascribed  to  Chrysostom.  (See  "  Ad.  Matth." 
6,  3,  25,  18.)  The  Council  of  Constantinople  refers  to  them  in  the  year 
394  (Can.  74).  From  this  period  testimonies  multiply.  We  wid  cite 
only  Photius,  who  erroneously  attributes  them  to  Clement  of  Rome  ("  Bil)- 
liotheca,"  Can.  112,  113).  It  is  then  established  that  the  "Apostolical 
Constitutions  "  existed  in  substance  before  the  Council  of  Niccea.  The 
Reformation  has  shown  too  much  disregard  of  them  on  account  of  its  op- 
position to  everything  connected  with  tradition.  If  they  cannot  claim 
any  value  as  apostolical  authority,  they  are  yet  of  considerable  importance 
as  an  historical  document,  if  only  care  be  taken  to  remove  the  overlying 
strata  of  tradition.  The  "  Apostolical  Constitutions  "  have  been  formed  as  \i 
were  by  alluvial  deposits,  upon  a  basis  really  belonging  to  the  first  century, 
but  which  has  been  graduady  enriched  or  transmuted  by  that  oral  tradition 
for  which  the  Fathers  were  so  eager,  as  we  are  told  by  Papias  (Eusebius, 
"  n.  E,,"  iii.  39),  and  Irenreus  ("  Hoeres."  iii,  4).  This  original  ground- 
work of  the  "Apostolical  Constitutions"  is  found  in  our  canonical  writings, 
but  being  reproduced  by  oral  tradition,  when  that  was  held  in  higher  re- 
gard  than  even  the  letters  of  the  apostles,  it  speedily  became  surcharged 
with  glosses  in  which  we  see  the  reflection  of  the  successive  changes  made 
in  the  primitive  organization  of  the  Church.  The  Epistles  of  the  Apostles 
are  never  quoted  in  the  "Apostohcal  Constitutions,"  because  these  are  con- 
sidered as  replacing  them  with  fuller  developments.  Nevertheless,  we 
find  in  their  essential  portions  a  nucleus  of  apostolic  texts  around  which  the 
new  formations  were  grouped.  The  Pastoral  Epistles  are  evidently  the 
original  woof  and  warp  ot  the  "Apostolical  Constitutions."  These  have 
grown  out  of  the  primitive  type  somewhat  as  the  Apostles'  Creed  has  been 
developed  out  of  the  baptismal  formula.  Only  the  changes  having  been 
more  numerous  and  more  rapid  in  the  organization  than  in  the  doctrine  of 
the  Church,  tradition  has  been  allowed  much  freer  scope  in  this  domain. 
We  have  two  recent  editions  of  the  "Apostolical  Constitutions."  i.  That 
of  Ultzen  (Rostock,  1853).  2.  That  which  Bunsen  has  given  in  the  second 
volume  of  his  "  Analecta  AnteniccXna."  We  cite  the  text  of  the  latter, 
because  the  interpolations  are  carefully  marked. 


6  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

only  like  metal  in  a  state  of  fusion,  now  take  a  more 
decided  and  definite  form.  Considerable  progress  has 
been  made  towards  the  idea  of  a  hierarch}^,  though 
no  Church  as  yet  claims  authority  over  another,  and 
we  are  still  very  far  from  that  centralization  which  is 
the  essential  of  a  visible  Catholic  unity.  The  warm 
breath  and  grand  impulse  of  zeal  and  liberty  which 
animated  the  creative  period  of  the  Church  has  not 
yet  grown  cold ;  and  while  it  still  breathes  in  her  in- 
stitutions, the  idea  of  a  false  and  fictitious  unity  will 
have  but  little  power. 

We  shall  commence  with  the  period  extending  from 
the  year  220  to  the  beginning  of  the  third  century. 
Prior  to  that  date  the  organization  of  the  Church  had 
not  undergone  any  radical  alteration.  But  from  this 
time  we  find  the  hierarchical  tendency  asserting  itself 
triumphantly.  We  shall  have  to  note  the  causes  which 
produced  this  change,  and  the  struggles  (far  more 
severe  than  is  generally  supposed)  by  which  it  was 
preceded. 

The  essential  feature  by  which  the  institutions  of  the 
Church  of  the  second  century  were  characterised  was 
this :  they  demanded  of  all  its  members  a  distinct 
confession  of  the  faith,  and  claimed  the  right  to  watch 
that  their  conduct  did  not  belie  their  creed.  We  might 
deem  that  persecution  would  have  been  alone  sufficient 
to  separate  the  chaff  from  the  'wheat,  and  that  hasty 
and  ill-considered  membership  was  but  little  to  be 
feared  in  a  time  when  the  name  of  Christian  was  a 
title  of  opprobrium  and  peril.  Primitive  Christianity 
had  not  been  satisfied  however  with  this  barrier  raised 
by  its.  enemies  between  it  and  the   pagan   world;  it 


TRAINING    OF    THE    CATECHUMENS.  7 

sought  in  its  own  institutions,  apart  from  circumstances 
which  might  change,  a  guarantee  against  the  intrusion 
of  the  indifferent  or  hypocritical.  It  felt  that  it  was  not 
like  the  old  theocracy  which  comprehended  all  the  sons 
of  Abraham,  and  marked  them  indistinctly  by  an  out- 
ward sign.  Initiation  into  the  fellowship  of  Christians 
was  not  by  natural  birth,  but  by  what  the  sacred  writ- 
ings call  the  new  birth,  that  formation  of  the  new  heart 
and  the  right  spirit  which  no  ceremony  can  avail  to 
produce,  and  which  was  not  inherited  by  blood.  "  Non 
nascuntur  sed  fiunt  Christiani."  This  great  saying  of 
Tertullian  is  the  soul  of  the  ecclesiastical  organization 
of  the  second  century.  The  Church  does  not  plant  a 
hedge  about  herself  as  the  Rabbi  does  around  his  cherished 
tradition,  repudiating  all  free  inquiry  ;  she  would  only, 
according  to  the  beautiful  figure  of  Isaiah,  defend  the 
mystical  vine  from  all  unhallowed  contact.  This  is  the 
true  meaning  of  the  severe  discipline  and  lengthened 
and  laborious  process  of  initiation  to  which  her  prose- 
lytes are  subjected.  We  shall  find  that  what  seems  at 
the  first  glance  an  abridgment  of  liberty,  is  in  truth  its 
best  safeguard;  clerical  despotism  will  be  able  to  pre- 
vail only  when  the  doors  of  the  Church  have  been 
forced  by  a  mixed  multitude.  These,  being  themselves 
indifferent  to  the  true  interests  of  the  Christian  life,  are 
incapable  of  sharing  in  the  government  of  a  religious 
body ;  they  will  therefore  gladly  free  themselves  from 
a  burdensome  responsibility  by  casting  it  on  their 
leaders.  The  hierarchy  gains  strength  in  proportion 
as  living  piety  declines.  On  the  other  hand,  a  Church 
composed  of  earnest,  active  Christians,  well  instructed 
in  divine  things,  is  a  self-governing  Church  ;  it  does  not 


8  T^E    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

surrender  to  any  the  conduct  of  its  highest  interests, 
which   it  regards  no  less  than  sacred  obligations  ;  its 
rights  and  its  duties  go  hand  in  hand,  and  the  former  are 
forfeited  only  as  the  latter  are  neglected.     A  saintly  life 
cannot  be  servile.     Primitive  Christianity  preserved  its 
sacred  liberty  so  long  as  it  defended  itself  against  the  in- 
trusion of  foreign  elements,  and  its  stern  discipline  proved 
the  strongest  bulw^ark  of  its  independence.    Thus  so  long 
as  every  Christian  believed  himself  to  be   a  priest  of 
Christ,  no  special  priesthood  could  interfere   between 
him  and  heaven.    The  true  worshipper  of  the  living  God 
stands  erect  in  presence  of  every  human  dignitary,  and 
is  intolerant  of  the  usurpations  of  man  just  in  propor- 
tion to  his  reverent  submission  to  the  authority  of  God. 
Of  all  the  institutions  of  the  ancient  Church,  the  most 
important  was  that  for  training  catechumens,  because 
it  determined  the  conditions  of  Church  membership. 
In  this  early  period,  when  the  primary  necessity  is  to 
fight  and  conquer,  the  Church  is  not   exposed  to  the 
temptations  of  peaceful  and  ordinary  times,  when  it  is 
apt  to  become  confounded  with  general  society.     It  re- 
ceives fresh  adherents  now  only  by  direct   discipling  ; 
souls  must  be  gained  one  by  one,   and  detached  from 
their  old  life  to  be  adopted  into  the  new.     The  Church 
has  not  to  deal  now,  as  subsequently,   with  a  young 
generation,  which  it  may  mould  by  an  education  begun 
in  the  cradle.     Its  proselytes   come  from  every  quarter 
of  the  pagan  world  ;  from  the  ranks  of  an  army  in  which 
military  service  is  permeated  with  idolatrous  practices  ; 
from  the  deep  degradation  of  a  life  of  slavery ;  from  the 
marts  of  idol  traffic ;  from  the  thousand  trades  which 
purvey  to  the  pleasures  of  a  great  city ;  sometimes  also 


TRAINING    OF    THE    CATECHUMENS.  9 

from  the  palaces  or  villas  of  a  corrupt  aristocracy. 
These  are  the  rough,  unhewn,  deeply-discoloured  stones, 
which  the  Church  is  to  cut,  polish,  and  engrave  with 
her  own  impress,  before  they  can  be  built  into  the 
living  temple  she  is  rearing  for  God.  This  image,  bor- 
rowed from  the  visions  of  the  "  Pastor  Hermas,"  is  a 
faithful  representation  of  the  discipline  of  the  catechu- 
mens. The  "  Apostolical  Constitutions,"  confirmed  by 
the  Fathers  of  that  period,  give  us  a  complete  picture  of 
this  institution  which  exercised  the  fervent  and  untiring 
zeal  of  the  Church. 

The  proselyte  presenting  himself  for  the  first  time  at 
the  door  of  the  Church  for  admission,  is  subjected  to  a 
preliminary  examination  before  entering  on  the  course 
of  catechetical  instruction.  The  pearls  of  truth  are 
not  to  be  cast  before  the  profane;  mere  mental  curiosity 
is  not  deemed  sufficient  to  qualify  for  their  exalted 
teachings ;  it  must  be  shown  that  the  seeker  estimates 
truth  at  its  real  value,  and  regards  it  not  as  a  mere 
amusement  for  the  intellect,  but  as  the  rule  of  life. 
This  Divine  knowledge  can  only  be  acquired  by  purified 
hearts,  as  the  Master  Himself  has  testified.  "Blessed 
are  the  pure  in  heart,  for  they  shall  see  God."  Its 
light  is  not  the  cold  gleam  of  an  abstract  philosophy, 
it  is  a  flame  to  consume  inward  defilement.  *  None  is 
admitted  as  a  candidate  for  this  Divine  knowledge 
unless  he  show  himself  willing  to  renounce  all  that  is 
incompatible  with  so  high  a  calling.  Undertaken  on 
any  other  conditions,  such  study  would  prove  vain  and 
sterile ;  for  in  order  to  know  if  the  doctrine  of  Christ 
is  of  God,  it  is  essential  to  begin  by  doing  His  will.* 

*  fohn  vii.  IJ. 


10  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

Obedience  is  the  starting-point  of  all  religious  know- 
ledge. The  whole  moral  teaching  of  St.  John,  and  of 
the  Fathers  of  Alexandria,  is  embodied  in  the  first  rule 
laid  down  for  the  catechumen,  and  thus  expressed  in 
the  most  ancient  of  the  "Apostolical  Constitutions." 

"That  those  who  come  for  the  first  time  to  hear  the 
Divine  word  be  brought  to  those  who  are  appointed 
to  teach,  before  the  Christian  community  assembles, 
and  that  they  be  asked  what  has  led  them  to  the 
faith ;  that  the  Christians  by  whom  they  are  brought 
testify  that  they  are  competent  to  hear  the  Divine 
word,  and  that  they  know  their  conduct  and  manner  of 
life."*  Indecision  is  not  allowed;  it  is  not  possible  to 
stand  with  one  foot  in  either  camp  when  the  Church 
has  once  been  taken  as  the  guide  in  the  way  of  truth. 

Purity  of  life  is  the  first  condition  required.  "Let 
it  be  known  if  the  candidate  is  married  :  if  he  is  not, 
let  him  learn  to  renounce  all  unlawful  license ;  let  him 
bechastely  married,  or  live  in  continence  according  to 
the  commandment,  t 

The  examination  of  candidates  is  peculiarly  severe 
in  all  that  affects  their  relations  with  paganism.  They 
are  to  abandon  every  idolatrous  practice,  and  all  trades 
connected  with  the  making  of  idols;  they  are  to  abstain 
from  what  the  Church  calls  theatromania  —  all  those 
scenic  games  which  are  fatally  debased  by  the  impure 
legends  of  mythology.  The  interpretation  of  dreams, 
and  magical  arts,  are  no   less  expressly  forbidden.     A 

*  Ol  TTpwTiOQ  wpomovrec  ry  icaivy  marH  cikovhv  tov  \6yov.  .  .  rag  airiag 
iXiTaL,^a9u)(Tav  ov  x^P'**  TrpocfjXQuv  ry  TritTTtc  o'i  t(  7rpo(TEPtjK6iTeg  fiapTupfi- 
ToTav  aiiToic,  li  ^vvaroi  eiaiv  aKoveiv  tov  Xoyov.  "  Const.  Eccles.  Egypt." 
(  "optic),  ii.  40;    Bunsen,  "  Antenicaena,"  vol.  ii. 

t  •'  Const.  Eccles.  Egypt."  ii.  40. 


TRAINING    OF    THE    CATECHUMENS.  II 

slave  is  to  bear  a  good  report  from  his  master,  and  if 
a  master  holds  any  dignity  or  office  which  renders 
conformity  to  pagan  practices  necessary,  he  is  called 
on  to  resign  it  before  he  can  take  his  place  side  by  side 
with  his  slave  on  the  catechumens'  bench.  Military 
service  is  only  sanctioned  when  compulsory.* 

The  proselyte,  having  been  once  admitted  to  the 
instruction  of  the  Church,  is  required  to  go  through  the 
whole  course,  which  lasts  three  years,  unless  he  can 
give,  in  a  shorter  time,  proofs  of  adequate  knowledge  ; 
for  "  it  is  not  the  time  which  is  of  moment,  but  the 
change  of  the  life."  f  Teaching  is  given  to  the 
catechumens  before  the  hour  of.  worship.  The  public 
profession  of  their  faith  which  they  are  called  to  make 
at  the  time  of  baptism,  enables  us  to  determine  the  ob- 
ject and  the  nature  of  this  teaching.  It  is  evident  that 
in  this  profession  they  only  sum  up  that  which  they  have 
received  from  the  lips  of  their  Christian  teachers.  We 
find  that  the  course  of  instruction  was  divided  into 
three  parts,  corresponding  to  the  three  years  of  its 
duration.  The  first  was  devoted  to  laying  firmly  the 
basis  of  all  religious  teaching  by  developing  the  idea  of 
the  true  God,  who  is  at  once  the  Ruler  and  the  Father 
of  all  beings. t  It  was  needful,  on  the  one  hand,  to 
establish  the  idea  of  a  personal  God,  in  opposition  to  the 
pantheism  in  which  pagan  speculation  terminated  ;  and 
on  the  other  hand  to  guard  against  another  prevalent 
form  of  error  which  exalted  the  First  Principle  into  such 
a  transcendental  sphere  that  He  became  a  sort  of  meta- 

*  "  Const.  Egypt."  ii.'  41. 
t  Tpia  tT7]  KaT7]x^i(T9(i),  ovx  0  XP^^og,  dW  6  Tpoirog  Kpiverai.      Ibid.  ii.  42. 
I  Toy  fiovov  dKi]9ipdv  Otbv  rbv  Trarkpa.      Ibid.  ii.  46. 


12  THE    EARLY   CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

physical   nonentity,   incapable   of  exerting   any   direct 
influence  upon  the  world. 

In  its  second  division,  the  catechetical  teaching  was 
directed  to  the  doctrine  of  Christ,  His  eternal  relation 
to  the  Father  as  the  only  Son,  and  His  redeeming 
work  as  the  Saviour.*  It  was  that  slubime  philosophy 
of  the  Word  which  had  been  so  magnificently  treated 
at  Alexandria.  Lastly,  the  doctrine  of  the  Holy  Spirit 
was  set  forth.  He  was  represented  as  the  vivifying 
principle,  imparting  Divine  life  to  the  soul.t  We  see 
that  the  whole  teaching  turned  upon  the  Christian 
theodicy,  the  Divine  Persons  being  regarded  rather  in 
their  active  operation  in  the  work  of  redemption  than  in 
their  essence  and  mysterious  mutual  relation.  There 
was  no  attempt  as  yet  at  the  subtle  metaphysics  of 
Nicaea.  God  was  presented  successively  as  Father,  as 
Saviour,  and  as  life-giving  Spirit,  but  the  Trinitarian 
formulae  were  not  insisted  upon.  The  catechetical 
instruction  w'as  marked  throughout  by  a  practical 
character,  opposed  to  all  philosophical  abstraction. 

A  large  place  was  given  to  the  history  of  revelation, 
which  was  unfolded  according  to  the  three  great  mani- 
festations of  the  Divine  operation  in  the  world.  God 
was  made  known  as  the  Creator  by  means  of  a  com- 
prehensive historical  picture  of  the  origin  of  the  world, 
of  the  creation  of  man,  and  of  the  principal  providential 
dispensations,  which,  from  the  patriarchal  age  to  the 
close  of  the  pagan  era,  had  in  various  ways  prepared 
the  race  of  Adam  to  rise  from  the  vanity  of  error  to  the 
knowledge  of  the  truth,  and  from  the  dominion  of  evil 

*  Tuv  ^lovoytvrj  avrov  v'lbv  'ItjcFovv  Xpiarui^  rbv  Kvpiov  Kai   aoJTnpa  r'jiiiop. 
*  Const.  Egypt."  ii.  46. 
t  To  iiyiui/  TTVivfxa  to  ^(oottoiovp.     Ibid.  ii.  47. 


TRAINING    OF    THE    CATECHUMENS.  I3 

into  liberty.  Next  followed  an  exposition  of  the  incar- 
nation of  the  only  Son,  and  of  His  redemptive  work, 
wrought  out  for  the  remission  of  sins,  the  illumination 
of  men's  minds,  and  the  purification  of  their  hearts.* 
The  life-giving  operation  of  the  Holy  Spirit  was  con- 
nected in  the  most  natural  manner  with  the  exposition 
of  the  regenerative  consequences  of  salvation.  This  led 
on  to  the  teaching  of  Christian  ethics,  properly  so  called. 
We  find  a  very  complete  epitome  of  these  in  the  intro- 
duction to  the  "  Coptic  Constitutions."  t  This  is  un- 
questionably one  of  the  most  beautiful  portions  of  the 
catechetical  instruction  as  it  was  imparted  at  Alexan- 
dria. It  is  the  sublime  morality  of  the  gospel,  as  far 
removed  as  possible  from  a  timid  casuistry. 

It  is  easy  to  discover  from  this  document  that  the 
Decalogue  formed  the  basis  of  this  moral  teaching,  but 
the  Decalogue  marvellously  enlarged  and  spiritualised. 
In  the  first  place,  the  entire  system  of  morality  was 
brought  under  one  ruling  principle — love.  That  which 
was  the  crown  and  topstone  of  the  Mosaic  law  was  here 
made  the  foundation.  "  We  must  choose  between  the 
way  of  death  and  the  way  of  life.  Love  is  life.|  The 
great  commandment  of  Deuteronomy,  which  does  not 
divide  the  love  we  owe  to  God  from  that  which  is  due  to 
our  neighbour,  laid  down  particular  precepts  and  bound 
them  together.  These  various  precepts  were  now  not 
simply  formulated,  they  were  illuminated  by  the  pro- 
found psychology  of  the  gospel,  which  deals  with  the 
secret  source  of  evil.  Murder  is  present  germinally  in 
the  movement  of  hatred  or  envy,  which  no  human  eye  can 

*  "  Const.  Apost."  vii.  39.  t  "Const.  Egypt."  i.  1-13. 

I  'OSoi  di<o  tiai,  fiia  Ttjg  ^wi/f  Kal  fiia  tov  Oavdrov.    ij  odo^  Tijg  ^<orjQ  tVrti' 
avTtj.  dya7rr]otiQ.     "  Const.  Eccl.  Egypt."  i.  2. 


14  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

discern.  Adultery  is  incipient  in  lust.  Wrath  and  evil 
desire  are  two  terrible  demons,  striving  with  one  another 
for  the  mastery  of  the  soul,  taking  possession  of  it  as  of 
the  house  swept  and  garnished  of  the  parable,  and  im- 
peding its  contemplation  of  the  truth.  From  their  fatal 
union  results  the  perdition  of  the  soul.*  Are  they  not 
in  truth  the  two  poles  of  egoism,  which  is  equally  cul- 
pable, whether  it  uses  another  as  a  vile  instrument  of 
pleasure,  or  removes  him  violently  out  of  the  way. 
These  two  demoniacal  passions  were  the  curse  of  the 
old  pagan  world, and  hadassumed  hideous  forms,  which 
the  Christian  moralist  denounces  with  an  unsparing 
boldness  like  that  of  Paul.t  He  attaches  great  import- 
ance to  the  sins  of  the  lip,  because  he  knows  that, 
according  to  the  Bible  expression,  the  tongue  kindles  in 
men's  hearts  a  great  fire  of  anger  and  evil  passions.  The 
speech  of  Christians  is  to  be  gentle  as  it  is  pure.  "  Say 
no  evil  against  thy  neighbour  ;  hate  no  man ;  protect 
some;  pity  others;  pray  for  them  and  love  them  as  thine 
own  soul.  Avoid  evil  expressions,  for  of  these  things 
come  adulteries."! 

The  catechist  naturally  dwells  at  length  on  the  sub- 
ject of  incantations,  sorceries,  explanation  of  dreams, 
and  that  art  of  divination  which  was  so  closely  linked 
with  idolatry.§  This  formed  a  very  important  chapter 
in  the  moral  system,  which  was  as  practical  as  it  was 
sublime.  Lying  was  denounced  with  no  less  rigour,  as 
opening  the  way  for  the  fraudulent  spirit,  and  thus  for 
all  manner  of  robbery  and  wrong.  1| 
.  The  duties  of  man  towards  God,  which  belong  to  the 

*  "  Const.  Egypt.'"  i.  4,  6.  t  Ibid.  i.  4. 

t  Ibid.  i.  9,  7-  '  §  Ibid.  i.  8.  |1  Ibid.  i.  9. 


TRAINING    OF   THE    CATECHUMENS.  15 

sphere  of  piety  properly  so  called,  were  treated  in  the 
following  precepts.  *'  Be  full  of  gentleness,  for  the 
meek  shall  inherit  the  earth.  Be  patient ;  live  in 
peace;  be  pure  in  heart;  do  not  lift  up  thyself;  walk 
not  with  the  proud,  but  with  the  upright  and  the  lowly. 
Accept  as  a  good  everything  that  happens  to  thee,  for 
all  is  of  God."  *  Respect  and  love  towards  the 
pastors  of  the  Church  are  strongly  enjoined.  The 
counsels  of  St.  Paul  on  this  subject  received  careful 
comment.  *'  Honour  them  with  the  sweat  of  thy  brow, 
and  with  the  labour  of  thy  hands."  t  The  duty  of 
avoiding  division  and  schisms  is  not  forgotten  in  this 
time  of  heresies  innumerable.  I  That  which  is  es- 
pecially admirable  in  this  moral  teaching  is  the  pro- 
found recognition  of  the  equality  of  men,  as  established 
by  the  gospel :  of  this,  Christian  charity  is  made  the 
guardian.  '*  Show  no  respect  of  persons  when  thou 
hast  a  rebuke  to  administer,  for  before  God,  wealth, 
dignity,  beauty,  are  of  no  account ;  all  are  equal  before 
Him."  §  The  Christian  is  only  to  remember  the  in- 
equalities of  social  life  in  order  to  obliterate  them.  "Let 
not  thy  hand  be  wide  open  to  receive,  and  closed  to 
give.  Turn  not  thou  away  from  the  needy,  but  share 
with  him  whatever  thou  hast.  If  ye  share  in  common 
those  things  which  are  incorruptible,  how  should  ye 
not  do  it  in  the  things  that  are  corruptible."  || 

Thus  in  the  Christian  Church  and  at  the  family 
hearth  was  inaugurated  that  great  change  which  was 
destined  to  abolish  all  the  unjust  assumptions  and 
glaring  inequalities  of  social  life.     This    morality,  at 

*"  Const.  Egypt."  i.  9.  t  Ibid.  i.  10.  J  Ibid.  i.  ii. 

§  'laoTrjQ  lari  iravTujv  irap   avriji.    Ibid.  i.  II.  |1  Ibid.  i.  II. 


l6  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

once  so  lofty  and  so  practical,  found  its  sanction  in 
those  words  of  the  apostles  which  had  been  their  watch- 
word. **  The  day  of  the  Lord  is  at  hand."  "  He  will 
come  and  render  to  every  man  according  to  his  work."  * 

The  catechist  contented  himself  with  teaching  these 
principles  of  the  new  life,  and  in  order  to  show  to  his 
disciple  that  he  did  not  lay  upon  him  the  yoke  of  any 
code  or  ritual,  he  referred  him  to  the  holy  Scriptures 
and  to  his  own  conscience,  leaving  him  to  deduce 
for  himself  the  consequences  of  their  teaching.  He 
treated  him  as  a  freeman  of  Christ,  who  stood  in  no 
further  need  of  direction.  "  Be,"  he  said,  ''  your  own 
counsellors,  your  own  teachers."  f  It  would  have 
been  impossible  to  mark  more  clearly  the  inauguration 
of  the  law  of  liberty  written  in  the  hearts,  and  differing 
so  widely  from  the  law  of  the  letter  graven  upon  stone. 

The  teaching  of  the  catechumens  varied  in  measure 
and  fulness  according  to  the  place  and  circumstances 
in  which  they  were  found.  We  know  that  it  was  not 
the  same  in  a  country  Church  and  a  Church  in  the  town  ; 
we  know  tod  that  it  was  far  less  scientific  at  Rome  than 
at  Alexandria.  In  the  latter  city,  it  was  carried  to  the 
highest  point  of  scientific  culture.  There  arose  a  true 
apologetic  school,  in  which  it  was  not  deemed  enough 
to  expound  Christian  doctrines,  but  in  which  the  at- 
tempt was  made  to  show  the  correspondence  of  these 
doctrines  with  the  requirements  of  thought,  and  to 
harmonize  them  with  the  best  aspirations  of  the  old 
world.  We  can  form  an  idea  of  the  importance  which 
the  Church  attached  to  the  instruction  of  its  catechu- 
mens, when  we  see  such  men  as  Clement  and  Origen 

*  "Const.  Egypt."  i.  12.  t  'EavTwv  yivea9e  ffVfitovXoi.     Ibid.  i.  12. 


TRAINING    OF    THE    CATECHUiMENS.  I7 

undertaking  this  office,  and  glorying  in  the  name  of 
catechists.  The  example  of  Origen,  who  presided  over 
Ihis  teaching  long  before  he  received  any  ecclesiastical 
office,  confirms  the  very  remarkable  provision  of  the 
'*  Apostolical  Constitutions,"  according  to  which  laymen 
might  be  called  to  fulfil  this  high  trust.*  The  ancient 
Church  attached  far  more  importance  to  intellectual 
competency  than  to  official  dignity  for  such  a  work,  for 
she  was  far  removed  as  yet  from  imagining  that  Chris- 
tians are  made  by  a  rite,  and  that  supposed  sacramen- 
tal grace  supplies  all  deficiencies.  She  believed  firmly 
that  Christians  must  be  without  exception  "  taught 
directly  of  God,"  according  to  the  beautiful  fornjula  of 
the  "Apostolical  Constitutions," t  and  consequently 
that  there  is  no  caste  or  order  for  the  impartation  of 
truth. 

The  probation  of  the  catechumens  was  divided  into 
two  principal  periods,  forming  as  it  wxre  two  grades  of 
Christian  instruction.  In  the  first,  the  candidates  were 
regarded  as  standing  on  the  threshold  of  the  Church  ; 
they  could  take  no  part  in  its  worship,  and  were  required 
to  leave  before  the  reading  of  the  gospel.  This  barrier 
was  only  removed  on  the  very  eve  of  their  baptism,  at 
the  close  of  the  three  years  of  instruction  which  had 
been  imposed  on  them.  They  were  then  submitted  to 
a  fresh  examination,  having  reference  especially  to  their 
conduct.  It  was  inquired  if  they  had  lived  in  chastity, 
if  they  had  honoured  widows,  and  succoured  the  poor. 
It  was  only  after  this  examination  that  they  were  per- 
mitted  to  hear  the  reading  of  the  gospel,  while  they 

*  'O  diSaTKaXog  i'lre  itcKXtjrnatrrrjg  mv,  (ire.  XdittOQ.     "Const.  Egypt."  ii.  44. 
t  "Eoovrai  yap  -/ravriQ  ctcaKTOi  Oeov.     "Const.  Apost."  viii.  47. 


iS  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

were  not  yet  allowed  to  take  part  in  the  celebration  of 
the  Eucharist.  * 

When  the  moment  came  for  the  body  of  catechumens 
to  retire,  the  catechist,  whether  cleric  or  layman, 
blessed  them,  and  presented  to  God,  in  the  name  of  the 
Church,  a  prayer  in  their  behalf.  Chrysostom  has 
handed  down  to  us  that  which  was  used  at  Antioch  in 
his  day,  and  which  clearly  belongs  in  substance  to  the 
preceding  period.  This  prayer  shows  how  deeply  the 
catechumen  was  supposed  to  feel  his  responsibility,  and 
in  how  awful  and  solemn  a  light  the  act  of  entering  the 
Church  was  regarded.  We  subjoin  this  prayer.  "  Let 
us  pr«y,"  said  the  catechist,  "  for  the  catechumens, 
hat  God,  who  is  all  love  and  mercy,  may  listen  to  their 
prayer ;  that  He  may  open  the  ear  of  their  heart,  and 
that  they  may  perceive  that  which  eye  has  never  seen 
nor  ear  heard,  neither  hath  the  heart  of  man  conceived. 
May  He  teach  them  the  words  of  piety,  and  sow  in 
them  the  heavenly  seeds.  May  He  strengthen  their 
faith,  reveal  to  them  the  gospel  of  Divine  blessedness  : 
may  He  give  them  spiritual  understanding,  a  pure  mind, 
a  spotless  life.  Let  us  pray  yet  more  earnestly  that 
they  may  be  kept  from  every  evil  and  impious  act,  and 
that  they  may  be  rendered  worthy  of  the  washing  of  re- 
generation and  the  pardon  of  their  sins.  May  God  bless 
their  coming  in  and  going  out  ;  their  whole  life,  their 
houses,  their  families.  May  He  bless  their  children, 
and  spare  them  to  them  :  may  He  give  them  wisdom, 
and  order  all  things  for  their  greatest  good,"  t 

After  this  prayer  the  catechumens  rise  at  the  bidding 

*  "  Const.  Egypt."  ii.  45. 
t  Chrysostom,  "  Homilia,"  ii.  de  ep.  2  ad  Corinth. 


ADMISSION    INTO   THE    CHURCH    BY    BAPTISM.  I9 

of  the  deacon.  "  Pray,"  the  catechist  says  to  them, 
"  that  the  angel  of  peace  grant  you  to  fulfil  all  in 
peace.  Pray  that  peace  may  be  your  portion  this  day, 
and  all  the  days  of  your  life,  and  that  yours  may  be  a 
Christian  end.  Commend  yourselves  to  the  living  God, 
and  to  His  Spirit.  Bow  the  head."  The  benediction  is 
then  pronounced  upon  them,  and  the  whole  assembly 
says,  Amen. 

§  2. — Admission  into  the  Church  by  Baptism. 

After  three  years  of  instruction  the  catechumen 
whose  testimonials  are  all  good  is  ready  for  baptism.*" 
Again  he  is  made  the  subject  of  a  careful  examination, 
for  the  Church  demands  all  the  guarantees  possible  to 
assure  her  that  she  is  not  about  to  receive  an  intruder, 
but  a  faithful  member  of  the  mystical  body.  It  is 
again  the  conduct  which  is  made  the  subject  of  se- 
verest scrutiny,  for  on  points  of  doctrine  the  Church  is 
satisfied  with  the  public  profession  which  accompanies 
baptism.  That  which  is  sought  in  the  catechumen 
is  not  a  mere  form  of  words,  but  a  living  and  acting 
faith,  evidenced  by  purity  of  life  and  works  of  charity. 
It  is  on  this  account  that  three  examinations  are  made 
to  precede  the  baptism  of  the  neophyte. 

In  order  to  comprehend  aright  the  ordinance  of 
baptism  as  then  administered,  we  must  bear  in  mind 
the  wide  difference  between  the  Church  of  this  epoch 
and  that  of  modern  Christendom,  the  latter  gathering 
its  adherents  almost  everywhere  by  right  of  birth,  so 
that  we  are  accustomed  to  designate  as  Christian  people 
those  who  live  within  certain  degrees  of  latitude  and 


*  "  Const.  Egypt."  ii.  45. 


20  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

longitude.  Religious  statistics  thus  become  a  matter  of 
geography.  Baptism  is  little  more  than  a  semi-civil 
rite,  distinctive  rather  of  nationality  than  of  faith. 
We  hear  even  in  these  days  of  baptized  nations,  and  the 
Europe  of  the  eighteenth  century  was  called  Christian 
Europe.  These  anomalies  arise  from  the  fact  that  the 
baptism  of  infants,  which  was  the  exception  in  the  second 
century,  h^s  become  the  rule  since  the  confusion  of 
the  Church  with  the  Empire.  It  is  unquestionable 
that  infant  baptism  is  to  be  traced  back  as  far  as  the 
period  we  are  now  considering,  though,  as  we  have 
already  shown,  it  is  impossible  to  prove  its  apostolic 
origin.*  In  the  second  and  third  centuries  we  find  it 
the  practice  of  all  the  Churches  ;  the  protests  of  Ter- 
tullian  are  alone  sufficient  evidence  of  this  fact.  Never- 
theless, it  is  equally  obvious  that  there  is  a  wide 
difference  between  its  significance,  when  it  occupies  a 
secondary  place  in  the  institutions  of  the  Church,  and 
when  it  is  made,  as  has  been  the  case  since  the  fifth 
century,  a  factor  of  primary  importance.  When 
baptism  is  regarded  chiefly  as  the  means  of  introducing 
the  rising  race  into  the  Church,  it  misrepresents  the 
true  character  of  Christianity  in  two  respects.  First: 
It  makes  Christianity  only  a  new  development  of 
Judaism,  a  religion  transmitted  by  inheritance,  and 
linked  with  a  family  name,  instead  of  having  for  its 
basis  a  personal  faith.  Second :  It  tends  to  transform 
the  grace  of  God  into  a  sacramental  and  magical  grace 
working  independently  of  the  moral  agent  himself, 
since  a  new-born  child  cannot  be  a  moral  agent.  The 
case  was  altogether  different  when  the  rule,  or  at  least 

*  *'  Early  Years  of  Christianity,"  vol.  i.      "  The  Apostolic  Age."     Note, 
P-  33 ' 


ADMISSION    INTO    THE   CHURCH    BY    BAPTISM.         21 

the  prevailing  practice  in  the  Church,  was  the  baptism 
of  the  catechumen  after  lengthened  instruction  and 
trial.  The  magical  operation  of  the  sacrament 
vanishes  as  the  moral  activity  is  brought  into  play. 
The  baptism  of  children,  if  it  is  practised  at  all  under 
such  circumstances  and  in  the  midst  of  such  influences, 
is  no  longer  regarded  as  a  sacrament  producing  of 
itself — ex  opere  operato  —  divine  life.  It  is  simply  a 
consecration  of  the  child  to  God,  an  anticipation  of 
future  action  on  its  part  which  in  no  way  destroys  the 
necessity  of  personal  faith.  The  liturgical  form  used 
in  connection  with  it  declares  the  necessity  of  such 
faith.  Moreover,  so  long  as  the  baptism  of  the  adult 
catechumen  is  the  rule,  the  religious  community  can- 
not be  confounded  with  the  civil,  nor  can  its  member- 
ship be  supposed  to  rest  upon  any  mere  accident  of 
birth  or  custom. 

The  essential  feature  of  the  institutions  of  the  second 
and  third  centuries  is  this  very  predominance  of  the 
baptism  of  adult  catechumens  with  their  foregoing  train- 
ing. The  preparatory  training  is  a  sieve  which  sepa- 
rates the  chaff  from  the  wheat.  Baptism  is  not  a  wide 
open  door,  through  which  unconverted  multitudes  are 
admitted  into  the  Church  by  virtue  of  a  rite  and  a 
formulary.  Distinguished  as  it  is  from  the  Jewish 
baptism  of  proselytes  by  its  character  of  universality, 
so  that,  like  the  religion  it  symbolises,  it  belongs  to 
mankind,  and  not  to  any  particular  nationality,  the 
ordinance  is  nevertheless  observed  as  one  of  the  mys- 
teries of  the  faith.  It  is  no  longer  administered  in 
public,  as  in  the  preceding  period ;  it  is  not  to  be  re- 
garded as  a  spectacle;  but  as  a  secret    initiation   into 


22  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

the  Church,  of  which  the  faithful  alone  are  witnesses. 
In  this  way  the  idea  was  most  clearly  expressed  that 
baptism  is  the  privilege  only  of  those  who  have  given 
pledges  of  their  faith.  All  this  will  be  changed  when  the 
idea  of  sacramental  efficacy  becomes  paramount,  and 
the  baptism  of  infants  is  adopted  as  the  rule,  instead 
of  the  careful  preparatory  discipline  preceding  member- 
ship in  the  early  age  of  the  Church.  The  sacrament 
will  become  public  when  it  is  administered  indiscrimi- 
nately to  a  multitude  having  no  qualification  but  that 
of  birth,  instead  of  to  those  only  who  have  undergone 
the  rigorous  training  of  catechumens. 

The  manner  in  which  baptism  is  spoken  of  by  the 
Fathers  of  the  early  ages  indicates  that,  for  the  miost 
part,  they  attached  to  it  this  character  of  a  voluntary 
and  well-considered  espousal  of  the  religion  of  Christ, 
without  excluding  the  mysterious  operation  of  Divine 
grace,  which  works  upon  human  volition  and  by  it. 
Some  of  the  terms  applied  to  it  have  reference  to  the 
form  of  the  rite.  The  word  baptism  itself,  which  sig- 
nifies dipping,  points  to  the  immersion  of  the  neophyte. 
The  sacrament  is  sometimes  called  simply  the  water,^ 
or  the  "washing,"  or  the  "fountain."  These  expres- 
sions have  a  mystical  sense  beyond  their  natural  mean- 
ing. The  Apostle  Paul  speaks  of  the  "w^ashing  of 
regeneration,"  and  there  are  other  similar  expressions 
in  Holy  Writ. t  Baptism  is  often  called  "an  anointing," 
in  allusion  to  one  of  the  rites  observed  in  connection 
with  it,  and  especially  pointing  to  the  great  idea  of  the 

*  "  Sacramentum  aquae."     Tertull.  "De  baptismo,"  i. 
t  Justin   Martyr,    "Apol."  i.  6i  ;  Clement   of  Alex.    "  Psedag."  i.    6; 
Titus  iii.  5. 


ADMISSION    INTO    THE    CHURCH    BY    BAPTISM.         23 

universal  priesthood,  as  says  St.  Jerome,  "  Baptism  is 
the  priesthood  of  the  laity."  *  It  is  called  again  "  the 
seal  of  God,"  to  mark  that  he  who  has  received  it  is 
no  longer  his  own.  The  spiritual  character  of  the  or- 
dinance is  brought  out  by  such  expressions  as  these  : 
'•'the  gift  of  God,"  t  '*  illumination,'"  "  spiritual  birth,"  \ 
or  "  enrolments"^  The  frequent  use  of  the  words  "mys- 
tery "  and  "  initiation  "  show  how  it  was  regarded  in 
the  early  ages. 

The  celebration  of  baptism  was  one  of  the  most  im- 
posing ceremonies  of  the  ancient  Church.  It  appears 
to  have  been  very  simple  in  the  first  thirty  years  of  the 
second  century,  up  to  the  time  of  Justin  Martyr.  In  the 
picture  which  he  draws  for  us,  we  can  trace,  indeed,  all 
the  essential  forms  of  the  rite,  but  they  are  not  yet  fixed 
by  rigid  rule,  nor  is  there  any  recognition  of  priestly 
authority.  Its  celebration  is  not  as  yet  strictly  private. 
"  Those,"  says  Justin,  "  who  are  fully  persuaded  that 
what  we  have  taught  them  is  in  accordance  with  the 
truth,  and  who  have  devoted  themselves  to  a  Christian 
life,  are  invited  to  seek  of  God,  with  fasting  and  prayer, 
the  pardon  of  the  sins  they  have  committed,  and  we 
also  fast  and  pray  with  them.  We  then  lead  them  to 
a  place  where  we  find  water,  and  they  receive  their 
regeneration  as  we  received  ours  ;  for  they  are  plunged 
into  the  water  in  the  name  of  God  the  Father  and 
Sovereign  of  all  things  which  exist,  of  Jesus  Christ 
our  Saviour,  and  of  the  Holy  Ghost."  jj     Baptism  thus 

*  "  Sacei'dotiumlaiciidestbaptisma."  Hieron.  "Dial.  adv.  Lucifer,"  c.  2. 

t  Gregor.  Naz.  "Oratio,"  40.  |  Clement  of  Alex.  "P^edag."  i.  6. 

§"  Census  Dei."  Tertull.  "  De  baptismo,"  c.  17.  See,  in  reference  to 
these  various  tei-ms  describing  baptism,  Augustine's  "Archaeology,"  ii.  309 
and  following.  ||  Justin  Martyr,  "  Apol."  i.  61. 


24  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

regarded  cannot  be  supposed  to  signify  actual  regenera- 
tion. No  magical  operation  is  ascribed  to  it,  and  this 
identification  of  the  sign  with  the  thing  signified  in 
expressions  which  are  perhaps  unguarded,  can  be  of  no 
weight.  The  neophyte  is  already  spiritually  renewed 
when  he  comes  to  the  baptismal  stream.  He  has  con- 
fessed his  faith  and  has  declared  himself  capable  of 
entering  on  the  new  life,  which  implies  that  he  is 
already  a  partaker  of  it.  Justin  Martyr  brings  him 
before  us  as  prepared  by  serious  preliminary  instruction 
for  the  solemn  act  of  dedication.  For  that  act  no 
particular  time  was  fixed ;  faith  was  the  great  pre- 
requisite ;  nor  was  any  special  place  assigned  for  the 
observance.  The  neophyte  is  baptized  in  any  adjoining 
water,  as  was  the  case  with  Lydia,  the  seller  of  purple, 
converted  under  St.  Paul  at  Philippi.  Lastly  we  read 
of  no  officiating  priest,  since  no  such  class  as  yet 
exists.  The  whole  Church  presides  over  the  baptism 
of  the  catechumen,  fasting  and  praying  with  him, 
though  its  elders  and  deacons  appear  taking  part  in 
the  ceremony  as  its  representatives.  Justin  Martyr, 
himself  a  layman,  speaks  in  his  own  name  as  in  that  of 
all  his  brethren  when  he  says:  "We  lead  the  catechu- 
mens to  a  place  where  there  is  water."*  Imm.ersion, 
and  the  benediction  in  the  name  of  the  Father,  Son, 
and  Spirit,  seem  to  have  been  the  sole  rites  of  baptism 
at  this  period.    It  still  retained  its  primitive  character. 

It  was  towards  the  end  of  the  second  century  and  the 
commencement  of  the  third,  that  baptism  was  placed 
under  more  fixed  rules,  and  received  the  addition  of 
symbolical  elements  which  were  in  accordance  with  the 

*  "AyovTai  v(f  i'hjojv  tvQa  vliop  tari.      Justin  Martyr,  "  Apol."  i.  6l. 


ADMISSION    INTO    THE    CHURCH    BY    BAPTISM.  25 

taste  of  the  time  and  the  poetic  genius  of  the  East, 
especially  in  that  Egyptian  Church  which  supplies  us 
on  this,  as  on  so  many  others  subjects,  with  the  most 
complete  and  authentic  documentary  evidence.  We 
shall  take  from  the  "Coptic  Constitution,"  supple- 
mented by  the  other  Apostolic  Constitutions  and  the 
writings  of  the  contemporary  Fathers,  our  description 
of  baptism  as  it  was  celebrated  before  Nicgea,  in  the 
times  of  Tertullian  and  Origen. 

Two  august  days  in  the  year  are  set  apart  for 
baptism.  It  is  to  be  celebrated  either  in  the  great 
Easter  vigil,  in  the  night  of  the  Sabbath  commemo- 
rative of  the  crucifixion,  or  on  the  eve  of  Pentecost.* 
These  two  festivals  point  indeed  in  a  special  manner  to 
the  Divine  realities  of  which  baptism  is  the  sign.  Is  it 
not  at  once  a  death  and  a  renewal,  a  mystical  identifi- 
cation with  Christ  crucified  and  risen  ?  Does  not  a  new 
Pentecostal  fire  light  upon  the  neophyte  who  is  bap- 
tized of  water  and  of  the  Spirit  ?  At  a  later  period 
Epiphany  was  also  chosen  for  the  celebration  of 
baptism,  for  the  reason  that  the  new  life  is  a  birth  of 
Christ  in  us.  Of  course  this  determination  of  certain 
solemn  days  for  baptism  refers  only  to  the  public  cele- 
bration before  the  Church.  It  was  always  allowed  that 
in  case  of  any  serious  obstacle  or  of  illness,  the  rite 
might  be  administered  in  the  house,  and  at  any  time.t 
The  part  assigned  to  the  clergy  in  the  ceremony  natu- 
rally occupies  a  more  prominent  place  now  than  in  the 
time  of  Justin  Martyr.    This  could  not  be  otherwise  ;  it 

*  "  Diem  baptismo  solemniorem  Pascha  prsestat.  Exinde  Pentecoste 
ordinandis  lavacris  latissimum  spatium  est."     TertuU.  "  De  baptismo,"  19. 

t  "  Omnis  dies  Domini  est,  omnis  hora,  omne  tempus  habile  baptismo." 
Ibid.  49. 


26  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

was  the  necessary  consequence  of  the  progress  of  sacer- 
dotal notions,  which  we  shall  have  to  follow  and  to 
estimate  when  we  come  to  treat  of  the  government  of 
the  Church.  The  bishop,  at  ^h-e  beginning  of  the  third 
century,  is  a  very  different  personage  from  the  bishop 
of  the  previous  age,  although  his  prerogative  is  not  yet 
formally  and  officially  established.  He  is  aided  by  the 
elders.  In  the  Churches  where  the  hierarchical  degrees 
a;e  clearly  determined,  the  deacons  and  deaconesses 
assist  the  neoph3^tes  in  the  various  stages  of  the  bap- 
tismal ceremony  In  spite,  however,  of  the  decline 
from  the  primitive  liberty  of  the  Church,  baptism  was 
never  considered  as  belonging  exclusively  to  the  clergy, 
and  the  right  of  the  laity  to  administer  it  in  exceptional 
cases  is  explicitly  stated.*  The  ordinance  was  no 
longer  observed,  as  formerly,  in  any  place  where  a  stream 
of  water  might  be  found.  The  Church  began  to  have, 
if  not  sanctuaries,  at  least  spacious  places  of  worship  in 
the  great  towns.  In  these  baptism  was  administered 
to  the  converts  collectively.  Sometimes  a  piscina  was 
arranged,  into  which  the  water  ran  by  a  channel  formed 
for  the  purpose.!  Baptisteries,  properly  so  called,  date 
only  from  the  age  succeeding  this. 

When  the  great  vigil  commences  on  the  evening  of 
the  day  when  the  Church,  dissolved  in  tears,  watches, 
like  the  Virgin  at  the  Cross,  in  adoring  contemplation 
of  the  dying  Saviour,  the  catechumens  assemble  in 
the  building  used  for  worship — a  building  not  as  yet  dis- 
tinguished by  any  peculiar  form  of  architecture.     The 

*  "  Baptismum  dandi  habet  jus  summus  sacerdos,  qui  est  episcopu>, 
dehinc  presbyteri  et  diaconi  non  tamen  sine  episcopi  auctoritate  propter 
ecclesice  honorem.  Alioquin  etiam  laicis  jus  est."  Tertullian,  "  De  Ijap- 
lismo,"  c.  17.  t  "Const.  Eccles.  Egypt."  ii.  46. 


ADMISSION    INTO    THE    CHURCH    BY    BAPTISM.  27 

men  are  separated  from  the  women.  "  Kneel,"  says  the 
bishop,  ''  and  pray  !  "  The  assembly  bows  in  silence. 
Then  the  bishop  extends  his  hands  over  the  kneeling 
multitude,  and  pronounces  the  words  of  the  first  exor- 
cism, designed  to  chase  away  the  evil  spirits,  from 
whose  dominion  these  converted  pagans  have  been  so 
lately  rescued.*  It  is  well  known  that  the  primitive 
Church  regarded  paganism  as  the  peculiar  domain  of 
the  demons.  We  have  seen  how  important  a  part 
Justin  Martyr  assigns  to  them  in  the  great  conflict  of 
redemption.  In  the  eyes  of  the  Christians  engaged  in 
the  mighty  struggle  with  the  ancient  world,  possession 
by  evil  spirits  is  no  longer,  as  in  the  time  of  Christ,  the 
morbid  condition  of  certain  individuals  ;  the  whole  of 
paganism  is  in  their  view  possessed  of  Satan,  and  every 
onQ  who  has  in  any  way  belonged  to  paganism  needs 
to  be  delivered  from  this  dominion  of  the  powers  of 
darkness.  Hence  the  necessity  of  exorcism,  which  is 
effected  by  prayer  and  not  by  a  magical  form.  Having 
thus  first  exorcised,  the  bishop  breathes  upon  the 
catechumens,  as  Jesus  did  upon  His  disciples  on  the 
evening  of  the  resurrection  in  the  upper  chamber  at 
Jerusalem,  saying  to  them,  "  Receive  ye  the  Holy 
Ghost."  Then  he  touches  with  his  finger  the  forehead, 
nostrils,  and  ears  of  the  neophytes.  The  sign  of  the 
cross  seems  to  have  been  early  adopted  in  place  of  this 
ceremonial. t 

Such  is  the  inauguration  of  the  baptismal  vigil.    The 

*  ' E^opKit,kT(i)  Trav  t,tvov  Trvivfia.      "  Const.  Egypt."  ii.  45. 

t  Cyprian  thus  speaks  of  the  baptised:  "Qui  renati  et  signo  Christi 
signati  fuerint."  "Ad  Demetrian."  c.  22.  "  Muniatur  frons  ut  signuni 
Dei  incolume  servetur."  "Epist."  58,  9.  'H  (xfpaytg  ai/ri  tov  aravfjou. 
"Const.  Apost."  iii.  17. 


28  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

entire  night  is  passed  in  prayers,  in  exhortations,  and 
public  confessions  of  past  sins,  for  repentance  is  the 
true  preparation  for  baptism.  The  catechumens  may 
take  no  other  food  than  a  morsel  of  bread  which  they 
have  brought  with  them  for  the  eucharistic  meal.  This 
is  the  first  time  they  have  been  allowed  to  take  part 
in  that  sacrament,  and  this  is  the  sign  of  their  new 
dignity.* 

Hardly  has  the  cock  crowed  with  the  earliest  dawn, 
when  water  is  poured  into  a  basin,  A  prayer  is  offered, 
probably  to  bless  the  water,  as  is  the  custom  still  in 
all  the  Cfiurches  over  the  bread  and  wine  of  the  Eu- 
charist, t  It  was  upon  this  perfectly  simple  and  be- 
coming practice  that  the  superstition  of  sacramental 
grace  only  too  readily  seized.  At  this  moment  the 
bishop  or  elder,  for  in  the  Coptic  document  both  names 
and  offices  are  used  interchangeably,  pronounces  words 
of  benediction  over  a  vessel  filled  with  oil,  which  is 
thenceforward  called  the  oil  of  the  Eucharist.  Then 
another  vessel  also  filled  with  oil  is  brought  to  him  : 
this  will  be  called  the  vessel  of  exorcism,  when  the 
bishop  has  pronounced  over  it  the  formulas  for  driving 
out  the  demons.  One  deacon  holds  the  first  vessel  on 
his  right,  another  hjlds  the  second  on  his  left.  The 
bishop  or  elder  calls  each  of  the  catechumens  separately 
before  him,  and  requires  him  to  renounce  the  evil  spirit. 
"I  renounce,"  says  the  neophyte,  '* thee,  Satan,  thy 
service  and  thy  works."  These  words  having  been 
spoken,  the  bishop  anoints  the  catechumen  with  the 
oil   of   exorcism,  saying  in   a  loud  voice,  "  Let   every 

*  *'  Const.  Eccles.  Egypt."  ii.  45  ;  Terlullian,  "  De  baptismo,"  20. 
t  "Const.  Egypt."  ii.  46. 


ADMISSION    INTO    THE    CHURCH    BY    BAPTISM.         29 

evil  spirit  depart  from  thee."  *  This  ceremony  of 
exorcism  is  not  described  in  our  most  ancient  docu- 
ments. TertuUian  speaks  only  of  the  renunciation  by 
the  catechumen  of  Satan  and  his  works.  It  is  easy  to 
see  how  this  renunciation  might  naturally  lead  to  exor- 
cism properly  so  called.  It  was  regarded  as  setting 
the  neophyte  free  from  the  mysterious  power  which  was 
felt  on  every  hand,  even  in  the  air  men  breathed.  This 
deliverance  was  marked  by  an  expressive  symbol. 
Had  not  St.  James  said  that  the  elders  of  the  Church 
were  to  anoint  the  sick  man  with  oil,  praying  over 
him?  Now  what  sickness  more  terrible  than  possession 
in  any  form  ?  The  origin  then  of  this  symbolical  act 
is  clearly  traceable  to  an  apostolic  usage  modified  in 
its  application. 

After  this  ceremony  the  men  are  conducted  by  the 
deacon  to  the  baptismal  water.  They  are  divested  of 
their  garments,  for  they  are  to  enter  the  new  life  un- 
clothed, as  they  entered  on  their  earthly  existence. 
The  women,  who  are  baptized  after  the  men,  loose 
their  hair  and  take  off  their  ornaments  of  silver  and 
gold,  for  no  one  may  take  a  strange  garment  into  the 
water.t  They  are  assisted  by  a  deaconess.  The  cate- 
chumens are  dipped  three  times. |  The  deacon  or 
deaconess  goes  down  with  them  into  the  water,  and 
helps  them  to  make  the  solemn  declaration  of  faith 
which   alone    entitles    them    to   baptism.      "  I    believe 

*  Afyujv  OTi  TTCLV  TTVtvfxa  fxaKpvvOy  airb  aov.  "  Const.  Egypt."  ii.  64. 
Cyprian,   "  Epist."  69,  15. 

t  "  Nudi  in  sreculo  nascimur,  nudi  etiam  accedimus  ad  lavacrum." 
Ambrosius,  "  Sermo  "  xx.  Mr]dfiQ  ^kvov  ti  eig  to  vSojp  (pEptTCJ.  "Const. 
Eccles,  Egypt."  ii.  46. 

I  "  Non  semel,  sed  ter."  TertuUian,  "Adv.  Prax."  c.  26;  "  De  corona 
milit."  c.  3. 


30  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

in  the  only  true  God,  the  Father  Almighty,  and 
in  His  only  hegotten  Son  Jesus  Christ,  our  Lord  and 
Saviour,  and  in  the  Holy  Spirit,  the  Quickener,  and 
in  the  life  everlasting."*  "I  believe  thus,"  repeats 
the  neophyte,  three  times.  After  this  solemn  declara- 
tion he  is  baptized  in  the  name  of  the  Father,  the 
Son,  and  the  Holy  Ghost,  t  He  then  comes  up  out  of 
the  water,  into  w^hich  he  has  been  three  times  dipped 
and  blessed  by  the  bishop.  Even  this  is  not  enough  : 
the  bishop  or  elder  demands  a  yet  more  explicit  confes- 
sion of  his  faith.  "  Dost  thou  believe,"  he  says,  "  in 
our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  the  only  Son  of  God  the  Father, 
that  He  became  man  in  a  wonderful  manner  for  us,  in 
an  incomprehensible  unity,  by  His  Holy  Spirit,  of  Mary 
the  holy  Virgin,  without  the  seed  of  man  ?  Dost  thou 
believe  that  He  was  crucified  for  us  under  Pontius 
Pilate,  and  died  of  His  own  will  once  for  our  redemp- 
tion ?  Dost  thou  believe  that  He  rose  on  the  third  day, 
loosing  the  bonds  of  death,  and  ascended  up  into 
heaven,  and  sat  on  the  right  hand  of  his  good  Father 
on  high,  and  that  He  cometh  again  to  judge  the  living 
and  the  dead  at  His  appearing  and  His  kingdom  ? 
Dost  thou  believe  in  the  Holy  Good  Spirit,  and  Quick- 
ener, who  wholly  purifieth  in  the  holy  Church  ?  "  The 
catechumen  is  to    answer  again    in   a  loud  voice,  *'  I 

*  "  Const.  Egypt."  ii,  46. 

t  Ibid.  ii.  46.  The  formula  of  baptism  is  still  that  which  Justin  Martyr 
l.as  handed  down.  The  Fathers  of  the  first  three  centuries  identify  it  with 
il.e  words  of  the  institution  of  the  ordinance,  Matt,  xxviii.  19.  See  Ter- 
lullian,  "De  Baptismo,"  6  ;  Cyprian,  "  Epist."  73,  18.  Several  mcdifica- 
t.fns  are,  however,  traceable  in  the  baptismal  formula.  Sometimes  the 
i.7r'  ovofictTog  is  omitted,  as  in  the  49ih  Apostolic  Canon,  where  we  find 
fit;  ttut'' pa  Kcd  viov  Kai  uyiovTTvt'fia.  Comp.  Tertullian,  "  Adv.  Prax."  26, 
ElseiAhere  the  formula  is  thus  epitomised  :  "  In  nomine  Christi."  Photius, 
"Bibliotheca,"cod.  280.     See  Cyprian,  "Epist."  73,  17 


ADMISSION    INTO    THE    CHURCH    BY   BAPTISM.  3I 

believe."  Then  the  bishop  or  elder  takes  the  oil  of  the 
Eucharist,  which  a  deacon  holds  on  his  right  hand, 
and  anoints  the  neophyte,  saying  these  words  :  "  I 
anoint  thy  forehead  with  this  holy  oil  in  the  name  of 
Jesus  Christ."*  Henceforth  the  new  Christian  belongs 
unreservedly  to  the  Church,  and  shares  in  all  its  privi- 
leges. He  has  become  truly  a  priest  of  Christ,  and 
in  order  to  mark  fully  his  priestly  dignity,  he  is  called, 
on  coming  up  out  of  the  baptismal  water,  himself  to 
repeat  the  Lord's  Prayer. f  The  Church  thus  recog- 
nises him  as  a  king  and  priest,  according  to  the 
beautiful  saying  of  Peter.  He  is  no  more  common  or 
profane  ;  he  is  the  minister  and  organ  of  the  body  of 
believers,  while  yet  submitting  himself  freely  to  its 
organisation.  Those  who  have  been  baptized  resume 
their  own  garments.  The  custom  of  dressing  them  in 
white  robes  dates  only  from  the  close  of  the  third 
century.  I  The  bishop  once  more  lays  his  hands  upon 
them  and  prays  in  these  words  :  ''  Lord  God,  as  Thou 
hast  made  these  worthy  to  receive  pardon  of  their  sins 
in  the  coming  world,  so  render  them  worthy  to  be  filled 
with  Thy  Holy  Spirit,  and  pour  upon  them  Thy  grace, 
that  they  may  serve  Thee  according  to  thy  good  plea- 
sure; for  to  Thee,  O  Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Spirit,  is 
the  glory  in  the  holy  Church  now  and  for  ever,  world 
without  end."§  After  all  these  ceremonies  the  neophytes 
are  brought  into  the  assembly  of  Christians,  and  the 
bishop  or  elder  repeats  before  the  Church  the  anointing 

*  ''Const.  Egypt."  ii.  46. 

t  Tiov  iSaTTTiaOh'Tiov  Trpoatvxofievujv.  Ibid.  ii.  46.  This  prayer  of  the 
neophyte  is  specified.  "  Const.  Apost."  iii.  18.  He  pronounces  the  Lord's 
Prayer,  as  having  become  a  son  of  the  house,  wg  v'lbg  irarpi. 

I  Cyril,  "  Hier.  Cathec.  Mystic."  iv.  558  ;  Euseb.  "Vita  Constantini," 
iv.  62.  §  "  Const.  Egypt."  ii.  46. 


32  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

with  the  oil  of  thanksgiving.  "  I  anoint  thy  forehead,"  he 
says  to  each  new  Christian,  •'  with  this  holy  oil  in  the 
name  of  God  the  Father  Almighty,  of  Jesus  Christ,  and 
of  the  Holy  Spirit."  The  sign  of  the  cross  is  made  upon 
the  brow  of  all  the  baptized.  The  bishop  salutes  them, 
saying,  "  The  Lord  be  with  thee ;  "  and  they  reply, 
"And  with  thy  spirit." 

During  this  sacred  ceremony  all  the  people  are  in 
prayer  with  the  catechumens,*  and  the  ceremonial  ends 
with  the  kiss  of  peace,  which  the  men  give  to  the  men, 
and  the  women  to  the  women. 

The  eucharistic  meal  is  immediately  celebrated  ac- 
cording to  the  ordinary  rites,  with  this  single  difference, 
that  to  those  who  are  partaking  for  the  first  time,  honey 
and  milk  are  offered,  reminding  them,  according  to  a 
familiar  image,  that  they  have  entered  the  spiritual 
Canaan,  the  true  land  of  promise,  flowing  with  milk 
and  honey,  t  It  appears  that  it  was  the  practice  in 
some  Churches  to  make  the  neophyte,  before  baptism, 
sign  a  written  engagement,  as  if  enrolling  himself  in  a 
sacred  corps.]:  The  changing  of  the  name  in  baptism 
belongs  to  a  later  period. §  It  is  clear  that  confirmation 
was  closely  associated  with  baptism ;  it  was  not  a 
separate  ceremony  ;  the  one  was  the  consummation  of 
the  other,  and  gave  to  it  its  spiritual  significance.  It 
was  the  emphatic  proclamation  of  the  admission  of  the 
neophyte  into  the  company  of  believers,  to  the  posses- 
sion of  their  rights  and  the  exercise  of  their  duties. 

*  IlavTcg  Tov  Xaov  lij^a  Trpoatvxoi-diwv.      "Const.  Egypt."  ii.  46. 

t  "Const.  Egypt."  ii,  46.  "Mellis  et  lactis  societatem."  Tertull.  "Adv. 
Marc."  i.  14.  Comp.  Clement  of  Alex.  "Psedag."i.  6.  The  Land  of 
Canaan  is  described  by  this  expression.  Exod.  iii.  8;  xxxiii.  3. 

I  See  Augustine,  "  Archaeology,"  ii.  426.  §  Ibid.^ii.  474. 


ADMISSION  INTO  THE  CHURCH  BY  BAPTISM.  ^^ 

It  is  easy  to  perceive  how  great  an  influence  must 
have  been  exercised  by  this  baptismal  ceremony  both 
upon  the  subjects  and  the  witnesses  of  it.  The  solemn 
vigil,  the  Church  kneeling  in  prayer  around  the  cate- 
chumens, the  simple,  grand  ritual,  full  of  poetry  and 
solemnity,  and  so  peculiarly  adapted  to  the  imaginative 
mind  of  Egypt  —  the  native  soil  of  symbolism  —  the 
sacred  vows,  which  might  so  soon  be  sealed  with 
blood — all  these  would  combine  to  make  the  memories 
of  such  a  .day  deep  and  ineffaceable.  There  was  no 
analogy  to  the  idle  phantasmagoria  of  initiative  rites 
practised  at  the  mysteries  of  Eleusis,  of  Isis,  or  of 
Mithra.  Here  the  true  spiritual  significance  shone 
through  the  symbol,  instead  of  being  lost  in  it.  The 
sign  did  not  conceal,  still  less  did  it  take  the  place  of, 
the  thing  signified.  The  custom  of  offering  to  the 
neophyte  milk  and  honey,  to  remind  him  that  he  had 
entered  the  Lord's  land,  gives  of  itself  the  clearest 
evidence  that  the  material  act  was  regarded  only  as 
a  simple  expression  of  the  Christian  idea.  It  was  just 
a  metaphor  put  into  action.  It  is  no  detriment  to  the 
sign  to  keep  it  in  closest  connection  with  the  spiritual 
realities  it  expresses,  and  to  which  it  lends  new  force 
by  expression ;  and  we  do  no  dishonour  to  baptism  in 
pointing  out  how  widely  it  differed  from  the  lustrations 
of  paganism. 

While  it  is  established  beyond  question  that  baptism 
was  intended  primarily  for  adults,  and  that  the  rules 
for  its  observance  have  this  fact  mainly  in  view,  it  is 
no  less  certain  that  the  practice  of  administering  it  to 
infants  rapidly  grew  in  the  early  Church.  Decisive 
proofs   of  this  are  found   only  at  the   commencement 

4 


3-1-  THE  EARLY  CHRISTIAN  CHURCH. 

of  the  third  century.  "  The  Constitutions  of  tlie 
E,2:yptian  Church  "  show  us  that  infants  were  the  first, 
dipped  in  the  baptismal  font.  The  word  employed, 
however,  does  not  describe  infants  newly  born,  but 
designates  generally  the  period  of  childhood,  embracing 
many  years.  The  document  runs  thus  :  "  Let  any  one 
of  them  who  can  speak,  speak  when  required  in  the 
service.  If  he  cannot  speak,  let  the  parents  answer 
for  him.'"  The  baptism  of  infants  is  thus  still  brought 
under  the  general  rule  that  there  must  be  a  profession 
of  faith  ;  it  is  only  one  particular  instance  of  a  general 
practice ;  there  is  even  to  be  conformity  to  that  which 
is  the  characteristic  feature  of  the  rite — the  expression 
of  personal  adherence  to  the  gospel.  Yet  the  slope 
was  a  slippery  one.  Origen  already  connected  the 
baptism  of  infants  with  his  favourite  theory  of  a  fall 
antecedent  to  our  earthly  existence. t  Tertullian  com- 
plained bitterly  of  the  abuse  which  had  so  soon 
followed  on  this  practice.  "  It  is  well,"  he  said,  "  to 
delay  the  baptism,  especially  of  young  children.  Let 
them  come  to  adult  age  ;  let  them  come  when  they  can 
understand  and  know  what  they  are  about  to  do  ;  let 
them  become  Christians  when  they  have  become  able 
to  know  Jesus  Christ.  Why  press  upon  this  innocent 
age  the  forgiveness  of  sins  ?  People  act  more  prudently 
in  the  things  of  this  life.     Why  should  the  heavenly 

*  Ilpwra  TO.  TraiSia  (BaTrrit^hOiocraV  6  Svvansroa  Xsyeiv  dv9'  kavrov  Xcyfrtt), 
(ivri  de  rov  {.iii]  cwafxsvov  oi  yovilg  XeysTMaav  vj  dXkog  tiq  ti^  yevti  Trpo- 
a.'jKiov.-     "Const.  Eccles.  Egypt."  ii.  46. 

t  "  Addi  his  etiam  potest  ut  requiratur  quid  causce  sit  cum  baptisma 
ecclesiae  pro  remissione  peccatorum  detur,  secundum  ecclesise  observantiam 
etiam  parvulis  dari  baptismum  ;  cum  utique  si  nihil  esset  in  parvulis  quod 
ad  remissionem  deberet,  gratia  baptismi  superflua  videretur. "  Origen, 
"  In  Levit.  Ilomil."  viii.  3.     Comp.  Cyprian,  ''  Epist."  64,  65. 


ADMISSION  INTO  THE  CHURCH  BY  BAPTISM.  35 

treasures  be  committed  to  those  who  are  not  considered 
competent  to  hold  earthly  goods  ? '"'' 

Tertullian,  being  a  rigorous  Montanist,  cannot,  of 
course,  be  taken  as  the  exact  representative  of  the 
Church  of  his  day,  although  he  was  one  of  the  mightiest 
masters  of  Christian  thought ;  but  the  language  used 
by  him  shows  us  that  the  institution  of  baptism  was 
already  undergoing  a  process  of  transformation,  and 
that  the  time  was  not  distant  when  this  sacrament 
would  be  regarded  as  the  great  mode  of  admission  into 
the  Church.  The  institution  of  godfathers  and  god- 
mothers was  of  later  growth.  At  first  the  parents  were 
simply  charged,  as  we  have  seen,  to  reply  instead  of  the 
children. t  When  a  slave  presented  himself  as  a  cate- 
chumen, his  masters,  if  they  were  Christians,  were 
asked  to  bear  testimony  to  his  good  conduct.  The 
appointment  of  godfathers  grew  subsequently  out  of 
this  practice.! 

We  pass  by  the  grave  question  of  the  baptism  of 
heretics,  because  it  is  largely  involved  with  the  great 
struggles  which  took  place  in  the  Church  of  the  third 
century  on  the  subject  of  ecclesiastical  constitution, 
and  of  these  we  shall  speak  presently.  Martyrdom  was 
universally  regarded  as  the  highest  of  all  training  for 
the  catechumens :  it  might  even  take  the  place  of  bap- 
tism.§  The  ordinance  of  baptism  was  administered 
hastily,  and  without  the  ordinary  forms  of  preparation, 
in  cases  of  sickness.  Only  if  the  sick  man  recovered, 
the  rite  thus  celebrated  was  considered  inadequate,  and 

*  Tertullian,  "  De  baptismo,"  c.  18. 

t  The  sponsors  of  whom  Tertullian  speaks,  simply  acted  the  part  thus 
described.     "  De  baptismo,"  c.  18.  J  "Const.  Apost."viii.  47. 

§  ' '  Hie  est  baptismus  qui  lavacrum  et  non  acceptum  reprsesentat  et  per- 
ditum  reddit."     Tertullian,  **De  baptismo,"  c.  18;  Cyprian,  73,  21,  22. 

4- 


36  THE  EARLY  CHRISTIAN  CHURCH. 

not  valid  for  a  Christian  who  should  hold  office  in  the 
Church.*  Cyprian  even  sanctioned  the  baptism  of 
persons  deranged,  whom  he  regarded  as  being  pos- 
sessed.t 

Baptism  was  administered  only  to  persons  ;  the  bap- 
tism of  things  without  life — such  as  the  baptism  of 
bells,  subsequently  practised — was  unknown  to  Chris- 
tian antiquity.  The  Church  held  as  yet  in  too  vivid 
remembrance  the  sublime  words,  "  God  is  a  Spirit:  He  . 
is  not  the  God  of  the  dead,  but  of  the  living.":|: 

Baptism  by  total  immersion  was  the  rule,  but 
sprinkling  was  substituted  for  it  in  cases  of  sickness, 
when  the  usual  form  might  have  been  attended  w^ith 
danger.  Cyprian,  speaking  of  those  who  in  bodily 
infirmity  desire  to  receive  the  Divine  grace,  says  that 
baptism  by  sprinkling,  when  it  is  administered  in  the 
bosom  of  the  Church,  and  the  faith  of  the  officiator  is 
pure,  is  of  the  Lord's  faithfulness  made  sufficient. §  The 
Western  Church  alone  adopted  as  a  general  rule  the 
practice  of  sprinkling.  This  form  no  doubt  became 
common  with  the  baptism  of  infants,  for  all  the  special 
provisions  in  case  of  bodily  weakness  would  apply  to 
them.  We  see  from  the  sculptures  on  many  sarco- 
phagi that  the  practice  of  sprinkling  was  frequent  at 
the  close  of  the  third  century,  although  the  older  mode 
as  yet  prevailed. 

*  Eusebius,  "  H.  E."  vi.  43.  t  Cyprian,  "Epist."69,  15. 

J  Augustine,  "  Archoeology,"  ii.  347.  The  Marcionites  had  invented 
a  rite  of  substitutive  baptism  for  the  dead.  This  Tertullian  repudiates 
with  much  force.      "  De  resurrect,  carnis. "  c.  48. 

§  "  Adspersionem  aquce  instar  salutaris  lavacri  obtinere."  Cyprian, 
"Epist"  69,  12. 


Z7 


CHAPTER  II. 

ORGANISATION    OF    LOCAL   CHURCHES  AT   THE    CLOSE   OF 
THE    SECOND    CENTURY. 

We  have  seen  how  the  Church  of  the  second  century 
received  her  members,  and  what  solemn  pledges  she 
required  of  proselytes.  She  thus  formed  a  true  spiritual 
community,  into  which  mere  conformity  to  certain 
forms  of  religion  received  by  family  tradition  gave  no 
passport ;  which  required  from  all  its  members  personal 
adherence  to  the  truth,  and  a  voluntary  submission  to 
rigid  discipline  and  scrutiny.  A  Church  thus  consti- 
tuted was  of  necessity  a  self-governing  Church.  The 
Christian  republic  stands  firm  so  long  as  Christianity  is 
truly  the  cause  of  all  believers,  the  Yes  publica  of  the 
Church.  During  this  period,  therefore,  the  primitive 
constitution  was  maintained  in  all  its  essential  features. 
The  ecclesiastical  office  preserves  its  representative 
character,  and  is  not  transformed  into  a  priesthood. 
We  shall  find,  however,  that  the  office  of  the  bishop  has 
a  tendency  to  distinguish  itself  from  that  of  the  elder, 
and  to  take  precedence  of  it  by  a  sort  of  spontaneous 
evolution,  for  which  we  shall  discover  various  causes. 
This  change  is  the  forerunner  of  others  of  graver  mo- 
ment, which,  after  long  and  severe  struggles,  will  gain 
ground  in  the  succeeding  period. 


38  THE  EARLY  CHRISTIAN  CHURCH. 

§  I. — Modifications  in  the  Idea  of  the  Ecclesiastical  Office 
during  the  course  of  the  Second  Century, 

Before  describing  the  organisation  for  Church  govern- 
ment at  the  commencement  of  the  third  century,  it 
will  be  needful  for  us  to  examine  carefully  the  various 
and  combined  influences  which,  at  the  close  of  the 
second  century,  led  to  a  preponderance  of  the  episco- 
pate altogether  unknown  to  an  earlier  era. 

Let  us  first  pass  in  rapid  review  the  primitive 
organisation  of  the  Church,  as  we  have  already  de- 
scribed it  in  the  previous  volumes  of  this  work. 

At  the  commencement,  all  power  is  concentrated  in 
the  apostolic  office,  not  by  any  priestly  claim,  but 
I:ecause  the  apostles  are  the  ideal  representatives  of 
the  Church.  The  number  of  the  apostles  suggests 
that  they  are  not  the  heirs  of  the  priestly  tribe,  but 
are  rather  as  the  tw^elve  patriarchs  of  Israel.  They 
are  the  nucleus  formed  by  Jesus  Christ  Himself  of  the 
new  people  of  God,  the  first  witnesses  of  the  Master; 
and  on  this  very  account  the  position  they  hold  is  one 
that  cannot  be  handed  down  by  succession,  for  it  is 
absurd  to  suppose  that  there  can  be  successive  gene- 
rations of  first  witnesses.  They  do  not  govern  the 
Church  as  if  they  were  invested  with  any  despotic 
authority.  When  their  number  has  to  be  supplemented 
because  of  the  traitor's  death,  they  call  together  the 
whole  Church  and  ask  its  decision.*  It  is  after  a  free 
conference,  in  which  all  the  Christians  of  Jerusalem 
take  part,  that  they  decide  the  grave  and  delicate 
question  of  the  relations  of  the  Churches  gathered  out 

*  Acts  i.  2 


THE  IDEA  OF  THE  ECCLESIASTICAL  OFFICE.  39 

of    paganism    with    those    of    Jewish    origin.*       The 
various  ecclesiastical  offices  are  created  not  by  direct 
Divme  institution,    after   the    manner   of    the   Mosaic 
priesthood,  but  according  to  the  needs  of  the  Church, 
with  its  own  ratification  and  free  choice.     They  spread 
out  from  the  apostolate  like  the  branches  of  a  mighty 
tree,  nourished   with  the  same  sap,  and  developing  in 
the  same  atmosphere  of  freedom.     Like  the  apostolate, 
all  these  offices  have  a  representative  character  without 
any  admixture  of  priestism.     Thus  the  first  diaconate 
of  the  seven  Hellenist  Christians  is  not  formed  by  any 
solemn  institution,  but  arises  out  of  a  special  necessity, 
and    is    designed  to    avoid  the   irritation    caused  by  a 
certain  inequality  in  the  distribution  of  the  gifts  of  the 
Church  among  disciples  of  different  nationalities.    The 
new   office   is   decided   upon  by  the    Church,  and  she 
herself  chooses  those  who  are  to  be  invested  with  it.t 
The  same  may  be  said  of  the  office  of  elder  or  bishop, 
for  the   two  designations   are  entirely   synonymous,  as 
we  have  already  abundantly  shown. t     This  office  also 
is  based  on  popular  election, §  just  as   is  the  diaconate 
properly  so  called,  which  is  charged  with  the  care  of 
the  poor  and  of  public  worship  more  specially  than  had 
been  the   case   with   the  seven  deacons    set    apart    at 
Jerusalem    in   the    first    days    of  the   Church.       These 
offices  are  borrowed,  not  from  the  temple  worship,  but 
from  the  synagogue,  which  had  nothing  priestly  about 
it,   and   the  very  simple  organisation  of    which   singu- 
larly   adapted    it    to  the   needs   of   the    new    religious 
community.     Let  it  not  be  forgotten  that   so  long  as 

*  Acts,  XV,  6-22.  t  Ibid.  vi.  2-5.  J  Ibid.  xx.  ZJ--2S  ;  Titus  i.  5. 

§  XupOTOvfiaavreg  TrpeajSurkpovg  kclt  tKKAijrriav.     Acts  xiv.  23. 


40  THE  EARLY  CHRISTIAN  CHURCH. 

the  temple  stood,  Jewish  Christians  still  observed  the 
Mosaic  law,  and  consequently  still  accepted  the  Jewish 
priesthood.  It  is  evident,  therefore,  that  there  could 
be  no  priestly  character  attached  by  them  to  the  new 
offices  they  created.  The  extraordinary  abundance  of 
miraculous  gifts  in  the  apostolic  age  tends  also  to 
diminish  the  importance  of  the  ecclesiastical  office, 
and  to  efface  the  sharp  line  of  demarcation  between 
the  Christian  people  and  their  elders  or  bishops.  In- 
spiration in  those  early  days  is  like  a  torrent,  which, 
on  first  bursting  from  its  mountain  prison,  knows  no 
bounds,  and  which  will  only  presently,  as  it  forces  its 
way  down  into  the  plain,  find  there  broad  banks  within 
which  it  wall  flow  in  regular  channels.  The  Divine 
Spirit  which  breaks  through  the  ordinary  forms  of 
human  speech  into  that  language  of  ecstasy  known  as 
the  gift  of  tongues,  will  not  confine  itself  to  any 
organisation.  It  blows  where  it  will,  and  prophets 
arise  from  every  rank.  The  gift  of  teaching  is  not 
a  necessary  and  exclusive  privilege  of  the  elders  ;  we 
must  even  infer  that  some  of  these  were  without  it, 
since  St.  Paul  carefully  distinguishes  those  who  possess 
it.*  Every  Christian  has  the  right  to  be  heard  in 
the  assemblies  for  worship. t  In  short,  there  is  no 
semblance  of  sacerdotal  or  hierarchical  organisation  in 
the  ecclesiastical  offices  of  the  apostolic  age.  Corres- 
ponding to  the  growing  requirements  of  the  Church, 
and  arising  out  of  them,  these  offices  have  simply  a 
representative  character,  and  all  form  a  ministry  of 
service,  not  a  ruling  priesthood.  It  is  natural  that 
they  should   assume  a  greater  importance  in   the  suc- 

*  I  Tim.  V.  17;  Eph.  iv.  H.  t  i  Cor.  xiv.  26. 


THE  IDEA  OF  THE  ECCLESIASTICAL  OFFICE.  41 

ceeding  period,  when  the  last  of  the  apostles  was  gone, 
and  when  supernatural  gifts  became  less  common,  or 
rather  ceased  to  be  manifested  in  the  same  miraculous 
outward  forms,  while  they  permeated  more  and  more 
deeply  the  whole  nature. 

The  destruction  of  the  temple  and  of  the  Holy  City, 
which  was  equivalent  to  the  overthrow  of  all  the 
institutions  of  Judaism,  compelled  that  portion  of  the 
Church  which  had  remained  in  some  measure  faithful 
to  those  institutions,  while  conforming  to  the  decision 
of  the  Council  of  Jerusalem,  to  seek  henceforth  their 
sole  support  within  the  Church  itself.  The  priesthood 
had  ceased ;  the  ecclesiastical  office  must  now  alone 
suffice  for  all  those  religious  needs  which  had  sought 
satisfaction  in  the  old  institutions.  While  we  cannot 
hold,  with  one  illustrious  theologian,  that  after  the 
destruction  of  the  temple  a  second  council  was  con- 
vened at  Jerusalem,  in  which  the  organisation  of  the 
Church  received  from  the  Apostles  more  fixed  and 
almost  episcopal  forms,*''  it  must  be  admitted  that  its 
offices  acquired  from  this  time  a  new  importance. 
This  appears  even  from  allusions  in  the  writings  of 
St.  John  to  the  state  of  the  Churches  towards  the 
close  of  the  first  century.  We  have  given  careful 
study  to  the  period  which  extends  from  this  date  to  the 
appearance  of  the  great  teachers  of  the  second  century. 
In  this  sort  of  interregnum,  while  there  were  no  power- 
ful religious  leaders,  many  fatal  seeds  were  sown  in  the 
soil,  which  were  not  at  once  developed.  The  harvest  of 
errors  appears  in  the  following  period,  and  when  the 

*  See  my  refutation  of  Rothe's  hypothesis,  founded  on  a  passage  of  Clement 
of  Rome.  "  Early  Years  of  Christianity,"  vol.  i.  "The  Apostolic  Age," 
PP-  367-369- 


42  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

defenders  and  representatives  of  the  ancient  liberty  of 
the  Church  raise  their  voices  in  protest,  it  is  too  late  ; 
the  religious  atmosphere  has  been  insensibly  changed, 
and  priestly  and  hierarchical  ideas  are  only  in  abeyance, 
waiting  to  receive  definitive  forms.  The  influences 
which  led  to  this  fatal  change  are  of  various  kinds, 
some  of  them  even  associated  with  the  purest  glories 
of  the  martyr  Church.  We  have  already  enumerated 
them  ;  but  as  we  find  them  assuming  new  forms  in  the 
progress  of  the  second  century,  it  may  be  well  to 
recapitulate  them,  noting,  as  we  do  so,  their  rapid 
development  and  modification. 

We  have  assigned  four  main  causes  for  the  deviations 
we  have  observed  from  the  primitive  ecclesiastical 
organisation,  ist.  The  great  and  rapid  growth  of  the 
Church,  which  necessarily  brought  into  it  heterogeneous 
elements.  2nd.  Persecution,  which  added  to  the 
authority  of  the  bishops,  just  as  rn  time  of  war  the 
ascendency  of  military  leaders  is  increased.  3rd. 
Heresy,  which  sometimes,  by  the  terror  it  inspired, 
gathered  the  people  in  more  united  and  compact  bodies 
around  their  pastors,  sometimes  had  another  and  in- 
direct effect  in  leading  them  back  to  Jewish  notions  of 
ecclesiastical  authority.  4th.  A  progressive  deviation 
from  the  purity  of  the  faith,  and  the  substitution  of  a 
certain  legalism  for  the  great  doctrine  of  Paul  on 
justification,  which  is  the  parent  of  all  true  liberty,  and 
the  basis  of  religious  equality.  All  these  causes  go  on 
accumulating  in  force  during  the  second  century. 
Christian  missions  do  not  cease  to  spread  their  net 
over  all  parts  of  the  empire ;  the  propagandism  of  the 
new    Church    assumes    unparalleled    proportions,    and 


THE  IDEA  OF  THE  ECCLESIASTICAL  OFFICE.  43 

proselytes  are  gathered  by  thousands,  especially  in 
the  great  centres  of  civilisation.  Even  in  those  times, 
when  the  profession  of  the  new  faith  might  cost  so 
dear,  the  mere  excitement  of  novelty  was  not  without 
its  effect,  as  well  as  more  serious  and  thoughtful  con- 
viction. Men  were  groaning  under  a  great  ennui,  and 
were  ready  to  grasp  at  that  which  was  new  in  any 
form.  It  often  happened  that  Christianity  was  em- 
braced from  the  same  motives  which  led  crowds  of 
initiates  into  the  sanctuaries  of  the  East. 

When  persecution,  after  a  moment's  slumber,  re- 
awoke,  the  number  of  sudden  defections  showed  how 
the  tares  had  been  mixed  with  the  wheat :  the  san- 
guinary sifting  soon  divided  the  true  from  the  false. 
But  even  yet,  in  calmer  times,  and  in  spite  of  all  the 
precautions  taken  by  the  Church  to  guard  her  doors 
against  the  intrusion  of  an  unconverted  crowd,  there 
were  found  among  her  members  many  who,  prompted 
in  their  profession  by  emotions  really  sincere,  yet  failed 
to  bring  with  them  that  enlightened  and  approved  faith 
which  opposes  the  most  serious  obstacle  to  ecclesiastical 
assumption. 

Persecution,  in  its  turn,  operates  in  the  same  direc- 
tion. .  The  community  of  Christians  scattered  abroad 
by  the  sword,  naturally  seeks  a  rallying  point,  a  centre 
of  unity  in  its  spiritual  heads  :  it  gathers  around  these 
under  an  instinct  of  danger.  Now  we  know  how 
constant  was  the  course  of  persecution  through  the 
whole  of  the  second  century.  More  terrible  still, 
perhaps,  in  the  succeeding  age,  it  raged  then  at  longer 
intervals,  which  allowed  the  Christians  a  breathing 
space.      The  Church  of  Justin  Martyr  and  of  Irenaeus 


44  THE  EARLY  CHRISTIAN  CHURCH. 

never  knows  a  sense  of  security.  It  is  constantly 
exposed  to  fearful  crises,  such  as  that  which  in  the 
history  of  ancient  Rome  gave  birth  to  the  dictatorship. 
Again,  persecution  lends  an  entirely  new  importance 
to  ecclesiastical  discipline.  The  question  of  the  resto- 
ration of  apostates  has  to  be  settled  ;  the  tribunal  of 
penitence  will  soon  become  confounded  with  the 
episcopal  chair.  This  momentous  transformation  is 
not  completed  until  the  following  period,  but  it  is 
already  in  process  of  preparation. 

The- second  century  is  the  epoch  of  great  heresies. 
We  have  endeavoured  to  explain  the  strange  fascina- 
tion exercised  over  this  generation,  so  eager  for  the  sym- 
bolical and  the  marvellous,  by  the  subtle  metaphysics 
and  morbid  poetry  of  Gnosticism,  which  had  the  great 
advantage  of  investing  with  new  life  under  Christian 
forms,  and  enveloping  in  a  veil  of  Biblical  allegories, 
the  old  naturalism  on  which  Paganism  had  reared  its 
various  systems.  Gnosticism,  by  virtue  of  its  innu- 
merable modifications,  w^as  adapted  to  all  grades  of 
culture.  It  could  present  itself  as  a  sublime  doctrine  to 
the  adepts  of  science,  and  as  an  attractive  fable  to  the 
feminine  mind,  while  it  commended  itself  supremely 
to  the  pride  of  the  human  heart  by  requiring  no  renun- 
ciation of  self  or  of  good  works,  holding  out  salvation 
as  the  reward  of  fasting  and  asceticism.  In  this  way 
Valentinian,  Basilides,  and  Marcion  unquestionably 
placed  the  Church  in  great  peril,  and  by  that  very  fact 
brought  it  more  completely  under  the  shepherd's  crook. 

Heresy  did  not  always  occupy  the  cloudy  heights 
of  Gnosticism-  It  showed  itself  more  accessible  in  its 
Judaising  form,  into  which  sometimes  there  still  entered 


THE  IDEA  OF  THE  ECCLESIASTICAL  OFFICE.  45 

much  of  oriental  and  dualist  speculation,  for  the  most 
hybrid  combinations  were  possible  in  this  age  of  uni- 
versal syncretism.  The  Judseo-Christianity  of  the  second 
century  differs  widely  from  that  of  the  first,  which  was 
only  a  rude  attempt  to  attach  the  Church  to  the  syna- 
gogue, and  to  keep  it  under  the  yoke  of  the  law  and  of 
the  Levitical  ritual.  Now  it  is  at  once  more  subtle 
and  less  clear,  permeated  with  the  theosophic  elements 
abroad  in  the  air :  it  is  moreover  essentially  hierarchical, 
and  seeks  to  re-establish,  if  not  the  priesthood,  at  least 
that  ecclesiastical  authority  which  spoke  in  such  lofty 
tones  from  Moses'  seat  in  the  time  of  Christ.  We  have 
a  striking  proof  of  this  influence  of  Judaising  heresy 
upon  the  formation  of  the  monarchical  episcopate,  in  the 
curious  philosophical  romance  of  the  "  Clementines," 
which  belongs  to  the  year  i8o.* 

We  need  not  enter  here  into  its  peculiar  teachings, 
on  which  we  have  already  dwelt  at  length.  We  shall 
confine  ourselves  now  to  that  which  relates  to  the 
organisation  of  the  Church.  The  conclusion  of  the 
third  homily  is  very  remarkable  in  this  respect.  The 
Apostle  Peter  is  on  the  point  of  quitting  the  town  of 
Caesarea,  to  continue  his  missionary  travels.  The 
Church  which  he  leaves  behind  must  not  be  without 
a  spiritual  director.  This  spiritual  director,  whom  he 
describes  as  a  bishop,  is  to  take  his  place  in  all  things, 
to  be  his  successor,  at  least  at  Caesarea.  ''  Since,"  he 
says,  "  it  is  necessary  that  we  appoint  a  man  to  take 
my  place,  let  us  ask  of  God  to  show  us  who  is  the  most 
exx:ellent  among  us,  fit  to  sit  in  the  seat  of  Christ,  and 

*  "Early  Years  of  Christianity,"  vol.  iii.  "  Heresy  and  Christian  Doc- 
trine," pp.  85-88. 


46  THE  EARLY  CHRISTIAN  CHURCH. 

to  govern  His  Church."  *  We  see  then  that  according 
to  the  ''  Clementines  "  the  bishop  is  the  successor  of 
the  apostles,  the  vicar  of  Christ.  In  another  passage, 
not  less  remarkable,  the  bishop  is  clearly  distinguished 
from  the  elder,  who  is  to  be  quite  subordinate  to  him, 
as  the  representative  of  Jesus  Christ.  The  Church  is 
to  remain  united  to  him  as  to  her  Divine  Master.  "  Let 
the  bishop  be  listened  to  first  of  all,  as  the  head.  Let 
the  elders  see  that  his  orders  are  obeyed,  and  let  the 
deacons  watch  over  the  outward  and  moral  life  of  the 
brethren,  to  give  an  account  of  it  to  the  bishop. "t  His 
mission  is  to  command,  that  of  the  other  Christians  to 
obey,  for  he  is  the  vicar  of  Christ,  t  The  Church  must 
constitute  a  true  monarchy  in  order  to  be  well  ruled. 
It  is  by  the  monarchy  that  God  has  given  peace  to  the 
world.  We  shall  find  the  same  principle  producing 
everywhere  the  same  result. §  It  is  the  apostle  himself 
who  lays  his  hands  upon  Zaccheus,  the  new  bishop,  and 
pronounces  these  solemn  words  :  "  O  God,  our  Father, 
keep  the  flock,  with  the  shepherd.  Thou  art  omnipotent, 
O  King  of  kings.  Lord  of  lords  !  Give  to  the  bishop  to 
loose  that  which  should  be  loosed,  and  to  bind  that 
which  should  be  bound.  Teach  Thou  by  him,  and  by 
his  means  keep  Thou  the  Church  of  Christ  as  Thy 
pure  bride."  II 

This  extravagant  clericalism  is  still  more  marked  in 
the  "  Recognitiones,"  which  are,  as  we  know,  a  new 
form  of  the  "  Clementines"  presented  ten  years  later. 

*  'ETret  ovv  (^n  riva  bpiaai  olvt  kfxov  tov  tfibv  avaTr\r}povvTa  tottov.  .  . 
'iva  irri  Trji;  Xpiarov  KaOedpac  KaOtcOsig  Tt)v  avrov  tKK\i](Tiav  evat^wg 
oiKovofxy.      Clement,  "  Homil. "  iii.  60. 

t  IIpo  TravTMV  6  iTrifTKOTTog  ihg  cipxiov.     Ibid.  iii.  67. 

I  'O  TrpoKaOf'Cojjievog  Xpiarou  tottov  tt.  TrirrTiVTai.     Ibid.  iii.  66. 

§  Ibid.  iii.  62.  |1  Ibid.  iii.  72. 


THE    IDEA    OF   THE    ECCLESIASTICAL   OFFICE.         47 

In  these  we  find  no  mention  of  the  election  of  the 
bishop  by  the  Christian  people.  Judaising  heresy  is 
unquestionably  in  advance  of  the  general  level  of  the 
orthodox  Church  in  this  conception  of  ecclesiastical 
authority.  It  gives  here  a  precise  and  definite  form  to 
that  which  was  as  yet  only  an  aspiration  in  the  Church 
of  the  second  century,  if  we  except  one  or  two  of  the 
Fathers.  The  episcopal  system  is  developed  in  the 
"  Clementines  "  to  a  degree  which  it  will  not  reach  in 
the  orthodox  Church  for  another  century.  It  is  true, 
nevertheless,  that  heresy  has  only  anticipated  on  this 
point,  as  on  many  others,  and  that  its  influence  con- 
tributed largely  to  help  on  and  hasten  the  establish- 
ment of  the  monarchical  episcopate. 

Judaising  heresy  would  not  have  had  so  much  influ- 
ence on  the  Christendom  of  the  second  century  if  the 
Church  had  not  been  in  some  respects  far  too  much  in 
unison  with  it  in  its  conception  of  evangelical  doctrine. 
Religious  faith  is  the  secret  spring  of  ecclesiastical 
organisation,  and  the  deviations  of'  the  form  do  but 
reproduce  those  of  the  spirit. 

We  have  already  shown  that  the  universal  priest- 
hood was  only  maintained  to  its  full  extent  in  prac- 
tice, as  well  as  in  theory,  so  long  as  the  redemptive 
sacrifice  of  Christ  was  accepted  without  reserve  as  the 
source  of  universal  salvation.  He  is  the  one  Priest  of 
the  Church  only  if  He  truly  finished  all  upon  the  cross, 
so  that  His  disciples  have  but  to  appropriate  His 
sacrifice  by  faith,  in  order  to  become  priests  and  kings 
in  Him  and  by  Him.  If  all  was  not  completed  on 
Calvary,  if  the  salvation  of  man  is  not  a  perfected 
work,  then  we  are  still  separated  from  God ;  we  have 


48  THE  EARLY  CHRISTIAN  CHURCH. 

no  free  access  into  His  sanctuary,  and  we  seek  media- 
tors or  priests  who  may  present  our  offering  for  us. 
When  Christianity  is  regarded  rather  as  a  new  law 
than  as  the  sovereign  manifestation  of  Divine  grace, 
it  leaves  us  in  our  impotence,  our  unworthiness,  to 
our  fruitless  strivings  and  our  partial  aspirations.  We 
are  no  more  kings  and  priests,  we  fall  back  under  the 
yoke  of  a  servile  fear.  The  hierarchy  gains  by  all  that 
men  lose  of  childhke  confidence  in  that  infinite  mercy 
which  alone  renders  needless  all  official  mediation 
between  the  penitent  and  God.  If  so  early  as  the 
close  of  the  apostolic  age  the  grand  theology  of  St. 
Paul  had  undergone  such  changes  as  we  have  seen, 
our  summary  of  the  doctrine  of  the  Fathers  of  the 
second  century  shows  to  what  an  extent  a  legalising 
spirit  had  gained  ground  among  them,  since  even  in 
the  noble  school  of  Alexandria  the  idea  of  redemption 
was  considerably  modified.  In  the  period  anterior 
to  this  Justin  Martyr  had  repeated  the  formulae  of  the 
Apostle  of  the  Gentiles  without  apprehending  their 
meaning,  and  he  had  thus  been  led  to  ignore  the 
marked  distinction  between  the  two  covenants.  Only 
we  must  remember  that  the  logic  of  ideas,  like  the 
ancient  Nemesis,  is  slow  of  foot,  and  only  arrives  at 
practical  consequences  long  after  laying  down  the  prin- 
ciples in  which  they  were  contained.  Thus  it  is  plain, 
from  the  admirable  passages  we  have  quoted  from 
Justin,  Clement  of  Alexandria,  and  Irenseus,  that  the 
great  principle  of  the  universal  priesthood,  considered 
in  itself,  was  held  by  them  unchanged  and  without  any 
concession  to  sacerdotal  views  properly  so  called.  It 
is   not   upon  the  heights,   but  in  the  valleys,  that  th: 


THE  IDEA  OF  THE  ECCLESIASTICAL  OFFICE.  49 

mists  gather  which  obscure  the  sky.  While  the  great 
spirits  remained  faithful  to  the  liberties  of  the  Church, 
ordinary  minds  were  brought  more  and  more  under  the 
dominion  of  adverse  influences. 

We  must  admit,  moreover,  that  the  hierarchical 
party  had  the  good  fortune  to  be  represented  by  one  of 
the  most  illustrious  bishops  of  the  second  century — 
Irenseus  of  Lyons.  Even  before  his  day,  Ignatius  of 
Antioch  had  advanced  in  the  same  direction  with  all 
the  ardour  of  his  soul,  and  with  a  fervour  caught,  as  it 
were,  in  anticipation  from  the  martyr-fire  in  which  he 
was  to  suffer.  However  much  allowance  we  make  for 
apocryphal  additions  to  the  writings  of  Ignatius,  it  is 
incontrovertible  that  he  extravagantly  exalted  the  epis- 
copal office.  There  is  as  yet,  however,  no  fundamental 
change.  Polycarp,  who  survived  Ignatius  many  yearS; 
still  maintains  the  identity  of  the  functions  of  elder  and 
bishop.  The  bishop  of  Antioch  concerns  himself  very 
little  with  ecclesiastical  claims.  What  he  passionately 
desires  is  unity,  and  the  discipline  of  a  compact  body 
in  a  day  of  fierce  conflict.  He  gives  his  brethren  in 
the  faith  a  military  commission,  rather  than  a  judicial 
title,  to  the  exercise  of  authority  in  the  Church. 
Irenaeus  is  a  far  loftier  spirit,  yet  he  yields  to  the 
same  influences,  and  goes  before  his  age  in  his  theory 
of  ecclesiastical  authority.  We  must  bear  in  mind 
that  he  lived  at  a  time  when  the  Church  was  exposed 
to  the  most  imminent  perils  on  every  hand,  when  per- 
secution raged  without,  and  schism  was  rife  within. 
It  is  in  his  great  work  against  heresy  that  Irenaeus 
gives  expression  to  his  episcopal  theories.  It  is  with  a 
view  to  crush  the  hundred-headed  hydra  that  he  would 

5 


50  THE  EARLY  CHRISTIAN  CHURCH, 

Strengthen  ecclesiastical  authority,  establish  it  upon  an 
immovable  basis,  attach  the  episcopate  to  the  aposto- 
late,  and  endow  it  with  a  special  grace  of  infallibility — 
the  unction  of  truth.*  Here  again,  under  the  pressure 
of  critical  circumstances,  Irenseus  departs  from  the 
general  views  of  the  age.  He  himself  elsewhere  recog- 
nises the  identity  of  the  episcopate  and  the  presbytery. 
He  speaks  in  the  third  book  of  his  treatise,  "  Contra 
Haeres.,"  of  the  tradition  of  the  apostles  handed  down 
by  the  elders.  These  elders  are  in  the  next  chapter 
called  bishops,  t  A  few  years  earlier  the  unknown 
author  of  "  Pastor  Hermas"  had  maintained  this  iden- 
tity of  the  two  offices  in  full  assembly  of  the  Church 
of  Rome,  denouncing,  at  the  same  time,  not  without 
bitterness,  the  assumptions  of  ecclesiastical  authority. 
"The  Church,  exhausted  and  sickly,"  he  said,  "  seeks 
rest  for  herself  on  the  episcopal  seat."  %  This  lively 
and  apt  image  represents  perfectly  the  transition 
through  which  the  organisation  of  the  Church  was 
passing.  The  bishops  are  not  as  yet  formally  dis- 
tinguished from  the  elders;  the  identity  of  the  two 
offices  is  freely  recognised.  St.  Jerome,  three  centuries 
later,  most  clearly  adopts  this  view.  He  says  :  "  The 
apostle  teaches  us  that  the  bishops  were  not  distinct 
from  the  elders.  If,  in  process  of  time,  one  was  chosen 
to  hold  authority  over  the  others,  this  was  done  to  guard 
against  schism. § 

The  commencement  of  the  third  century  is  the  period 

*  Irenseus,  "  Contra  Hoeres."  iii.  3;  iv.  43.  f  Ibid.  iii.  2,  3. 

\  "  Pastor,"  Visio  iii.  1 1. 

§  "  Apostolus  perspicue  docet  eosdem  esse  presbyteros  quam  episcopus. 
Quod  autem  postea  unus  electus  est  qui  ceteris  praeponeretur  in  schismatis 
remedium  factum  est."    Hyeron.   "  Comment,  in  Tit."  i.  5. 


ORGANISATION  OF  LOCAL  CHURCHES.  5 1 

when  the  Church,  whether  through  exhaustion  or 
through  the  fear  of  divisions,  distinctly  departed  from 
its  primitive  organisation,  not  in  principle,  but  in 
practice.  It  was  at  this  time  it  set  apart  one  of  the 
elders,  who,  under  the  title  of  bishop,  should  be  the 
director  and  head  of  the  Church.  This  innovation  met 
at  once  with  much  opposition.  What  then  will  be 
the  result  when,  in  the  -following  period,  the  hier- 
archical principle  finds  free  and  full  development  ? 
This  is  a  question  we  have  now  to  answer  as  we  trace 
the  organisation  of  clerical  authority  in  the  various 
Churches  between  the  years  200  and  230. 

§  2. — Organisation  of  Local   Churches  at   the  commence- 
ment of  the  Third  Century.^ 

The  formation  of  a  clerical  body,  properly  so  called, 
separated  from  other  Christian  people  by  peculiar  re- 
ligious privileges,  is  a  matter  independent  of  the  con- 
stitution of  ecclesiastical  authority.  Those  who  exercise 
that  authority  may  acquire  considerable  importance 
without  becoming  a  caste.  A  democracy  may  appoint 
from  its  own  body  leaders  who  shall  represent,  while 
they  govern  it,  and  may  assign  to  them  an  amount 
of  authority,  without  constituting  an  oligarchy  all  the 
dignities  of  which  should  belong  to  one  favoured  class. 
The  Church  had  for  a  long  time  been  strengthening  the 
governing  body,  but  it  had  not  yet  called  in  question 
the  universal  priesthood,  at  least  not  in  principle.  We 
have  seen  that  the  neophyte,  on  coming  up  out  of  the 

*  Beside  the  works  already  quoted,  see  Ritschl's  noble  book,  "  Entste- 
hung  der  altcatholischen  Kirche."  2nd  edit.  Bonn,  1857.  Zweit. 
Buch,   erster  Abschnitt.  ii.  and  iii. 

5* 


52  THE  EARLY  CHRISTIAN  CHURCH. 

waters  of  baptism,  performed  a  priestly  act  in  repeating 
the  Lord's  Prayer ;  and  once  admitted  to  the  sacrament, 
he  entered  upon  all  the  privileges  of  the  Church.  The 
great  line  of  demarcation  between  Christians  holding 
office  and  simple  members  of  the  Church,  was  not  yet 
drawn  ;  the  dividing  line  was  between  those  who 
belonged  to  the  Christian  community  and  those  who 
were  still  kept  on  the  threshold — the  baptized  and  the 
mere  catechumens.  We  have  seen  how  rigidly  this 
distinction  was  observed.  The  catechumens  were  not 
permitted  to  share  in  the  celebration  of  the  Eucharist. 
They  were  bound  to  retire  when  the  sacramental 
word  had  been  spoken  :  *'  Holy  things  for  the  holy  !  " 
Great  were  the  privileges  of  the  faithful ;  they  were 
truly  the  initiated,  taking  part  in  the  holy  mysteries. 
It  was  not  possible  to  regard  them  as  common,  or  to 
suppose  the  existence,  apart  from  them,  of  a  sacred 
tribe  constituting  the  heritage  of  the  Lord  —  in  other 
words,  a  body  of  clergy.  The  Christian  people  were 
all  priests,  as  the  Apostle  Peter  had  himself  called 
them,*  and  they  would  remain  so  until  the  Church 
opened  its  gates  to  a  multitude  with  no  other  passport 
than  birth  and  a  magical  sacrament.  The  faithful  are 
called  "  the  clergy  of  the  Christians  "  in  an  apocryphal 
fragment  of  the  letter  of  Ignatius  to  the  Ephesians, 
which  dates  from  the  beginning  of  the  second  century. f 
Irenseus  acknowledges  that  all  the  righteous  belong  to 
the  priestly  order.  1  The  word  clergy  is  applied  for  the 
first  time   to   those   bearing   office   in   the   Church    by 

*  I  Peter  v.  3. 

f  'Kv  K\)'ipo)  ' Etpenioji'  tojv  ^ptorirti'wv.      Ignatius,  "Ad  Eph. "  II. 
I  "  Omnes  justi   sacerdotalem   habent   ordinem."      Irenseus,    "Contra 
Hseres."  iv.  20. 


ORGANISATION  OF  LOCAL  CHURCHES.  53 

Clement  of  Alexandria  and  Tertullian.*  In  their  time 
the  word  clergy  signified  simply  a  particular  class  of 
men.  Thus  the  Christians  of  Lyons,  in  their  letter  to 
their  brethren  in  Asia  Minor,  speak  of  the  clergy  of 
the  martyrs. t  Eusebius  employs  the  word  as  denoting 
an  order  of  succession,  without  connecting  with  it  in  any 
degree  the  priestly  character.  :j:  St.  Augustine  and  St. 
Jerome,  contentingthemselves  with  the  Latintranslation, 
make  the  word  a  derivative  of  sors,  in  memory  of  the 
first  election  made  in  the  Church  by  lot  to  fill  up  the 
place  of  Judas  among  the  apostles.  §  Their  interpreta- 
tion, entirely  erroneous  as  it  w^as,  absolutely  excluded 
the  notion  of  priesthood.  Subsequently,  when  a  new 
priestly  order  arose,  the  clergy  were  regarded  as  the 
special  heritage  of  God,  or  as  possessing  Him  as  their 
peculiar  inheritance,  according  to  the  text  in  Deuter- 
onomy referring  to  the  tribe  of  Levi.|| 

It  is  not  surprising  that  the  ecclesiastics  of  the  fourth 
century  should  have  assigned  to  themselves  this  signal 
honour,  when  we  find  them  at  the  same  period  appro- 
priating with  emphasis  the  generic  name  which  belongs 
to  all  believers,  and  calling  themselves  by  pre-eminence 
the  Christians. 11  Tertullian,  the  great  and  ardent 
champion  of  the  liberties  of  the  Church,  was  also, 
singularly  enough,  the  one  to  introduce  into  religious 
language   the  word  orders  as  applied  to   those  holding 

*  Clement  of  Alex.  "  Quis  dives,"  42.  **  Unde  episcopi  et  clerus." 
Tertullian,  "DeMonog."  12. 

fKXrjpog  ra>v  jxaprlipiov.  Eusebius,  "  H.  E. "  v.  I,  §  7.  So  Routh, 
*'  Reliquiae,"  i.  305.  \  Eusebius,  "  H.  E."  vii.  2. 

§  "  Clerici  vocantur  quia  de  sorte  sunt  domini."  St.  Jerome,  "  Ep."  52  ; 
"Ad.  Nepot. ;"  Augustin,  "In  Psa.  cvii." 

II  Deut.  X.  9;  St.  Jerome,  "  Ep."  52,  "Ad  Nepot.,"  and  St.  Augustine 
give  this  second  interpretation  of  the  word  KXijpog. 

%  "  Cod.  Theod."  v.  5-2;  Giesler,  "  K.  G."  i.  228. 


54 


THE  EARLY  CHRISTIAN  CHURCH. 


ecclesiastical  offices.  He  used  the  word  as  a  jurist ; 
and  in  speaking  of  an  order  in  the  Church,  as  in  the 
State,  he  meant  simply  to  designate  the  constituted 
authority,  without  defining  its  constitution  or  origin.* 
He  calls  the  simple  members  of  the  Church  the  laity, 
but  only  to  distinguish  them  from  Christians  invested 
with  office,  not  to  mark  them  as  an  inferior  class. t  No 
one  has  vindicated  more  forcibly  than  Tertullian  the 
universal  priesthood  with  all  its  rights.  He  is  anxious, 
no  doubt,  to  preserve  the  Church  from  anarchy  ;  he 
reproaches  the  heretics  with  troubling  it  and  making 
its  offices  the  sport  of  their  caprice,  unmaking  one.  day 
the  bishop  they  had  appointed  the  day  before,  and 
changing  from  hour  to  hour  the  deacon  into  a  reader, 
and  the  elder  into  a  layman,  and  assigning  to  the 
latter  priestly  functions,  t  This  last  expression  must 
be  taken  in  connection  with  the  passages  in  which 
Tertullian  proclaims  the  universal  priesthood  in  such 
terms  as  these.  "  Is  not  that  which  is  prescribed  for 
the  bishop,  prescribed  to  all  the  faithful  on  the  same 
authority  ?  Whence  come  the  bishop  and  the  clergy  ? 
Are  they  not  taken  from  the  universal  body  of  the 
faithful  ?  §  We  should  fall  into  grave  error  did  we 
imagine  that  what  is  forbidden  to  the  priests  is  per- 
mitted to  the  laity.      Are  not  we  laymen  also  priests  ?  jl 

*  "  Differentiam  inter  ordinem  et  plebem  constituit  ecclesise  auctoritas." 
Tertullian,  "  Exhort.  Castit."  c.  7.  Roman  law  spoke  not  only  of  the  order 
of  the  senate,  but  also  of  the  order  of  decurions  in  each  town.  Tertullian 
used  the  word  ordci'  also  in  the  sense  of  organisation  :  ecclesice  ordo.  "  De 
Monog."  II.  The  sacred  writings  apply  it  to  the  priesthood  of  Melchisedec, 
who  was  the  type  of  the  priesthood  of  Christ,  as  distinguished  from  the  sacer- 
dotal caste.     Psa.  ex.  4;  Heb.  v.  6.  f  Tertullian,  "Exhort.  Castit."  7. 

X  "  Hodie  presbyter  qui  eras  laicus."     "  De  Prescript."  41. 

§  "Unde  enim  episcopi  et  clerus?  Non  de  omnibus?"   "De  Monog."  12. 

II  "Nonne  et  laici  sacerdotessumus?"  Tertullian,  "Exhort.  Castit."  c.  7. 


ORGANISATION  OF  LOCAL  CHURCHES.  55 

It  is  written  that  Jesus  Christ  has  made  us  kings 
and  priests  unto  God  His  Father.  It  is  ecclesiastical 
authority  alone  which  has  established  the  distinction 
between  the  priestly  order  and  the  Christian  people. 
Wherever  that  order  is  not  as  yet  instituted,  thou  dost 
celebrate  the  holy  communion  and  baptism  ;  thou 
alone  art  thine  own  priest.  Wherever  two  or  three 
are  assembled,  though  they  be  but  laymen,  there  is  a 
Church,  for  each  one  lives  by  his  faith,  and  there  is 
no  respect  of  persons  with  God.  If  then  thou  hast  in 
thyself  the  privileges  of  a  priest,  thou  art  bound  to 
obey  the  same  rules,  unless  thou  wouldest  alienate  thy 
priestly  right."  '" 

Into  whatever  extravagances  of  rigour  Tertullian 
may  have  fallen  in  the  very  treatises  from  which  we 
have  borrowed  these  beautiful  words,  he  was  neverthe- 
less the  faithful  representative  of  his  age  in  treating 
the  ecclesiastical  office  as  simply  instituted  for  pur- 
poses of  order  and  government,  and  in  regarding  the 
priesthood  as  the  essential  characteristic  of  the  Chris- 
tian as  a  Christian.  This  was  in  his  view  pre-eminently 
the  Divine  right.  The  great  theologians  of  Alexandria 
and  the  fiery  Carthaginian  use  the  same  language. f 

The  names  applied  indifferently  to  the  Christians 
in  the  religious  speech  of  the  day,  all  imply  the  same 
high  dignity.  Believers  are  called  the  faithful,  the 
illuminated,  the  initiate,  the  perfect,  t 

The  introduction  to  Book  viii.  of  the  ''Apostolical 
Constitutions,"  which  dates  from  the  commencement  of 
the  third  century,  expresses  very  beautifully  and  broadly 

*  Tertullian,  "Exhort.  Castit."  c.  7. 
t  See  vol.  iii.  of  my  History,  pp.  283  ;  4. 
\    Augustine,  "  Archaeology,"  i.  147-150. 


56  THE  EARLY  CHRISTIAN  CHURCH. 

the  conception,  far  more  personal  than  official,  which 
Christian  antiquity  entertained  of  the  ecclesiastical 
office.  The  unknown  author  of  this  remarkable  frag- 
ment is  perhaps  St.  Hippolytus,  for  in  treating  of  the 
miraculous  gifts  bestowed  on  primitive  Christianity,  he 
refers  to  a  work  ascribed  to  that  Father.*  These  gifts, 
splendid  as  they  were,  were  less  precious  in  God's 
sight  than  humble  and  devoted  piety.  That  which  is 
true  of  miraculous  gifts  is  still  more  emphatically  true 
of  ecclesiastical  offices,  which  are  in  the  same  manner 
external  to  the  man  and  imparted  from  without,  while 
piety  derives  its  inestimable  value  from  its  personal 
character.  Is  not  faith,  indeed,  also  a  supernatural 
gift,  and  the  most  precious  of  all  ?  "  There  is  no  man 
who  has  believed  in  God  by  Jesus  Christ,  and  has  not 
received  a  gift  from  the  Holy  Spirit.  Where  shall  we 
find  a  supernatural  gift,  if  not  in  the  act  of  faith  by 
which  a  man  passes  from  pagan  impiety  to  belief  in 
God  by  Christ  ?  "  f  Herein  pre-eminently  is  miraculous 
power  manifest.  Nor  is  this  all  :  piety  depends  in 
part  on  our  own  volition,  and  personally  concerns  our- 
selves, while  prodigies  proceed  from  a  miraculous 
power  which  is  without  us.  So  is  it  also  with  offices 
in  the  Church.  That  we  be  Christians  depends  on  our- 
selves, but  that  we  hold  the  office  of  apostle  or  bishop 
or  any  other,  is  not  of  ourselves,  but  of  God,  who 
bestows  the  needful  gift,  t  The  essential  for  the  bishop 
himself  is  that  he   possess  the  moral  qualities  which 

*  The  list  of  works  ascribed  to  St,  Hippolytus  which  we  find  inscribed  on 
a  statue  in  the  Vatican  Museum,  comprises  one  book  on  Charisms.  Bun- 
sen's  "Hippolytus,"  vol.  i.  note  i,  p.  434.  f  "Const.  Apost."  viii.  i. 

\  To  \iu>  Civai  xpif^Tun'bv  i(p'  r'ljj.'ip,  to  ce   airoaToKov  f;  kiriaKOTrov  r]  aXXo  ri 
ovK  t<p'  i'lfuv,  aXXd  Ittiti^  cioovTi  OttiJ  to.  'x^apiaixaTa.     Ibid.  viii.  i. 
• 


ORGANISATION  OF  LOCAL  CHURCHES.  57 

are  the  basis  of  piety.  Just  as  an  impious  king  is  no 
more  a  king,  but  a  tyrant,  so  a  bishop  who  ignores  or 
belies  the  truth  is  no  bishop,  though  he  may  wrongfully 
bear  the  name.*  Kings  and  bishops  are  nothing  in 
themselves,  apart  from  their  subordinates. 

It  is  the  union  of  the  one  with  the  other  which  consti- 
tutes society,  whether  civil  or  religious.  Undoubtedly 
it  is  necessary  for  good  order  that  each  fulfil  his  proper 
function  and  do  not  pass  its  limits,  but  the  spiritual 
reality  is  the  one  essential,  and  without  it  the  bishop 
has  no  more  raison  d'etre  than  the  Christian  layman. 
Such  were  the  principles  of  evangelical  liberalism  which 
were  still  paramount  even  in  the  age  when  the  episcopal 
office  asserted  a  decided  supremacy  over  that  of  the 
elder.  We  could  not  convey  a  better  idea  of  this  noble 
liberalism,  so  soon  to  vanish  away,  than  in  the  words  of 
singular  boldness  which  in  the  "Coptic  Constitution" 
of  the  Church  of  Egypt  are  attributed  to  the  apostles : 
"  If  we  have  omitted  any  point  in  your  instructions, 
practice  will  reveal  it  to  you,  for  we  all  have  the  Spirit 
of  God."  t  Thus  the  apostles  themselves  claim  no 
exclusive  Divine  illumination;  such  illumination  is  the 
privilege  of  all  Christians.  What  ecclesiastical  office 
shall  then  presume  to  assert  that  it  alone  possesses 
"the  unction  of  the  Holy  One,  which  teacheth  all 
things,"  I  and  shall  declare  itself  the  only  medium  of 
communication  with  eternal  truth  ? 

Upon  this  very  broad  basis  the  organisation  of  the 

*  Olt£  sTTiaKOiros  ayvnia  r]  KUKovoiq-  71  eirufffisvog  tiritTKOTroi;  ianv,  dXXd 
ipfvStJvvnog.      "Const.  Apost."  viii.  2. 

t  Ej'  Ss  Ti  7rapr]Kaniv,  rd  7rpdyna~a  SijXojati  vfuv,  ixofxev  yap  Travreg  to 
TTifvixa  Tov  Qtov.      "  Const.  Eccles.  Egypt."  ii.  41.     Comp.  Ibid.  62. 

I  I  John  ii.  27. 


58  THE  EARLY  CHRISTIAN  CHURCH. 

Church  was  reared.  Its  distinctive  feature  is  the  per- 
manent separation  effected  between  the  office  of  elder 
and  that  of  bishop,  and  the  subordination  of  the  former 
to  the  latter.  The  relation  of  the  chief  officer  is  very 
exactly  defined  in  these  words  of  St.  Hilary,  which 
apply  more  truly  to  this  period  than  to  the  age  in  which 
lie  lived  :  ''  Every  bishop  is  an  elder,  but  every  elder  is 
not  a  bishop.  He  is  a  bishop  who  is  first  among  the 
elders."*  At  Alexandria,  up  to  the  middle  of  the  third 
century,  the  elders  chose  the  one  of  their  number 
who  was  to  preside  over  them,  and  accorded  to  him 
episcopal  authority.  The  bishops  are  often  called 
the  presidents  of  the  Church.  "The  approved  elders 
preside  over  your  assemblies,"  says  Tertullian.t  This 
appellation  of  president  helps  us  to  apprehend  the 
natural  transition  from  the  primitive  equality  of  the 
two  offices  to  the  predominance  of  the  episcopate. 
But  nothing  could  bear  less  resemblance  to  the  position 
of  a  bishop  in  modern  conception,  than  the  place  thus 
accorded  him  when  he  had  ascended  the  first  step 
of  the  hierarchical  ladder.  His  importance  was  not 
derived  from  his  dignity,  but  from  the  extent  of  the 
sphere  which  he  occupied.  At  Rome,  at  Lyons,  at 
Alexandria,  the  bishop  had  more  extensive  authority 
because  he  had  ^a  larger  flock,  but  the  nature  of  the 
authority  was  the  very  same  when  exercised  within  the 
narrowest  limits.  Sometimes  a  bishopric  comprised 
only  a  hamlet.  We  read  in  the  "  Coptic  Constitution  :" 
"  Is  there  a  spot  where  the  little  company  of  believers 
competent  to  elect  a  bishop  does  not  amount  to  twelve, 

*  "  Hie  episcopus  est,  qui  inter  presbyteros  primus  est. "     Hilary,  "Ep. 
I  ad  Tim. "  iii. 

t  "  Pr?esident  probati  quique  seniores."     Tertullian,  "  Apol."  39. 


ORGANISATION  OF  LOCAL  CHURCHES.  59 

let  them  write  to  the  neighbouring  Churches,  if  these 
are  populous,  and  let  three  delegates  be  sent  to  ascer- 
tain with  care  who  is  worthy  to  undertake  this  office."  * 
It  follows  that  the  pastor  of  a  Church  which  might 
be  contained  in  the  humblest  of  upper  rooms  is  called 
a  bishop,  no  less  than  the  spiritual  head  of  a  flock 
numbering  thousands  of  members.  It  is  well,  doubtless, 
that  he  should  be  a  man  versed  in  the  sacred  Scriptures 
and  capable  of  interpreting  them,  but  the  absence  of 
culture  is  no  obstacle  to  his  elevation.  *'  Let  him  be 
in  that  case  full  of  gentleness,  and  surpassing  all  the 
rest  in  love,  so  that  he  inspires  respect." t  A  great 
heart  is  of  more  account  than  great  learning. 

The  office  of  bishop  is  not  yet  defined  with  the 
precision  which  it  will  presently  receive  as  the  hier- 
archical system  is  developed.  His  first  duty  is  to 
preside  in  Divine  service.  So  early  as  the  time  of 
Justin  Martyr,  worship,  while  it  still  preserved  its 
simplicity,  was  not  left  to  the  caprice  of  individual 
inspiration.  The  presiding  elder  blessed  the  bread  and 
wine  of  the  Eucharist.  I  In  the  following  period  it  is 
the  bishop  alone  who  consecrates  the  elements.  It  is 
he  who  confirms  the  catechumens,  and  lays  his  hands 
on  the  heads  of  the  bishops,  elders,  and  deacons,  when 
they  enter  on  their  office.  He  also  directs  the  discipline 
of  the  Church,  and  as  this  function  becomes  of  more 
importance,  the  weight  of  his  authority  will  be  pro- 
portionately increased. 

* 'Eav  oXiyaydpla  vTrapx^-i  Kal  fifiTrov  7r\r~]9oQ  Tvyxavsi  tujv  Swa/xsviov 
ipT](p((Taa9ai  irepi  iiriaKoTvov  tvrog  CfKcwi'o  civCpo.v.      "  Const  Copt."  i.  13. 

t  TIpavc;  icai  ry  ayainj  dg  Travrac  7repiaa<:v'<,TL.).      Ibid.  i.   13. 

\  Upo(y<pepsrai  r^  TrpoiCFTwri  twv  ddtX^Zv  dprog  kuI  ttotiwiov.  Justin 
Martyr,  "Apol."  ii.  97;    "Opera,"  97. 


6o  THE  EARLY  CHRISTIAN  CHURCH. 

Religious  instruction  is  one  of  his  principal  duties, 
but  he  shares  the  preaching  with  the  elders,  and  is 
even  assisted  in  this  ofBce  by  laymen,  as  is  proved 
by  the  example  of  Origen.*  The  deacons  are  to  make 
known  to  the  bishop  cases  of  sickness,  for  it  is  regarded 
as  a  great  consolation  by  the  afflicted  to  receive  a  visit 
from  him.  t 

We  find  in  the  Second  Book  of  the  "Apostolical 
Constitutions "  a  somewhat  idealised  picture  of  the 
episcopal  office,  which,  in  its  general  features,  cor- 
responds perfectly  to  the  Church  of  the  third  century- 
We  there  read:  "Thou,  then,  like  a  shepherd  who  is 
full  of  love  and  solicitude  for  his  flock,  count  thy  sheep. 
Seek  those  who  are  gone  astray,  after  the  example  of 
our  God,  the  Father  of  mercies,  who  sent  his  Son  to 
seek  the  lost  sheep  upon  the  mountains,  and  to  bring 
it  back  on  His  shoulders.  Follow  His  footsteps,  O 
bishop  ;  go  after  that  which  is  lost ;  restore  that  which 
has  wandered.  The  Church  is  the  harbour  of  the  ship- 
wrecked. Be  like  the  physician,  who  is  at  once  full  of 
skill  and  sympathy ;  carry  healing  to  all  whom  sin  has 
wounded,  for  it  is  not  the  whole  but  the  sick  who  have 
need  of  health.  Thou  art  the  physician  of  the  Church 
of  Christ ;  offer  to  each  the  remedy  that  may  heal  his 
sickness.  Remember  that  the  Good  Shepherd  gives 
His  life  for  the  sheep,  and  that  He  carries  the  weak 
ones  in  His  arms.t 

The  utmost  care  would  be  needed  in  the  appointment 
of  men  to  fulfil  a  function  so  important,  and  hence 
very  solemn  guarantees  of  moral  fitness  were  demanded 

•  "Const.  Apost."  viii.  47.  t  **  Const.  Copt."  ii.  56. 

;  "Const.  Apost."  ii.  20. 


ORGANISATION  OF  LOCAL  CHURCHES.  6l 

of  the  candidate.  His  reputation  must  be  unspotted, 
even  among  the  pagans;  he  must  be  known  for  his 
liberality  to  the  poor,  his  sobriety,  purity,  freedom 
from  ambition,  his  peaceable  spirit,  and  his  gentleness. 
It  is  well  if  he  is  not  married ;  that  at  least,  if  he  have 
been  married,  it  has  been  only  once,  and  that  he  keeps 
his  children  with  him.* 

Obviously  a  serious  examination  must  take  place 
before  the  election,  properly  so-called,  if  it  is  to  be  as- 
certained that  all  these  conditions  are  fulfilled.  The 
deacons  and  elders  were  charged  with  the  presentation 
of  the  candidate,  except  in  the  case  already  mentioned 
of  the  very  small  Churches.t  These  sought  the  assist- 
ance of  the  bishops. of  the  neighbouring  Churches,  and 
asked  their  prayers.J  We  must  not  suppose  that 
this  preliminary  examination  and  presentation  of  the 
candidate  formed  the  principal  condition  of  the  ulti- 
mate nomination,  so  that  the  election  itself  became 
a  mere  formality.  This  is  by  no  means  the  case.  The 
election  is  the  essential  act.  The  fundamental  article 
of  the  appointment  of  bishops  stands  thus  in  the  most 
ancient  document  we  possess :  "  Let  the  bishop  be 
appointed  after  having  been  chosen  by  all  the  people 
and  found  irreproachable. "§  It  is  not  even  enough 
that   the    candidate    is   found    acceptable    after    being 

*  KaXov  ^i^  eZvai  ayhvaiov,  d  df  firj,  aTrb  {.uag  yvvaiKoi;,  Traidelag  uhoyoc 
"Const.  Copt.     1.  13.  =•  r      A  V. 

yj!^^'^  ^^^"^^  ^^.J'^  conveyed  by  the  word,  dvofLarrQivrog  kuI  apsfravroQ. 
Ibid.  11.  p.  31.  We  see  that  the  candidate  was  nominated  and  designated 
before  being  accepted.  The  elders  are  evidently  charged  with  this  pre- 
sentation. We  have  shown  that  in  the  small  Churches  three  men  appointed 
by  the  neighbouring  Churches  preside,  instead  of  the  elders,  at  the  election 
of  the  bishop. 

I  ^WEvdoKOVV-WP  TTaVTiOV  TOIV  iTTKTKOTrbJV.        "  Const.   Copt. "  11.   ^I. 

§  'EiriaKOTTog  xuporovBinOii)  virb  iravrbg  tov  Xaov  tKXeXeynevog.   Ibid.  ii.  34. 


62  THE  EARLY  CHRISTIAN  CHURCH. 

submitted   to    the    most    serious    examination.      The 
election  will  be  final  only  after  a  solemn  ratification. 
The  week  preceding  his  consecration    is  spent  by  the 
Church    in    prayer   without    ceasing.     ''  O    God,"    she 
cries,  "  show  Thy  love  to  this  man  whom  Thou  hast 
prepared  for  us."*      When  the  great  day  has  arrived— 
a    Sunday  being   always    chosen— the    bishops   of  the 
ntiighbouring  parishes  assemble,  with  the  deacons  and 
elders  of  the  Church  for  which  the  bishop  is  needed. 
The    president    of    the    assembly    puts    the    following 
question  to  the  faithful  and  to  the  clergy  :    "  Is    this 
the  man  to  whose  direction  you  wish  to  commit  your- 
selves ? "       If    the    reply    is    in    the    affirmative,    the 
presiding    bishop    asks    again  ;    ''  Do    you    bear   him 
witness    that    he    is   worthy   of    this   high    and    holy 
office?       Has    his    piety    been    pure    towards    God? 
Has  he  walked  justly  with  men?     Has  he  exercised 
due  discipline   in  his   own  house  ?     Has  his  life  been 
irreproachable  ?     Is   he  free  from   any  charge  against 
him,  and   are  the   members  of  his  family  free  also  ?  " 
Three  times  the  same  questions  are  put,   after  which 
the  votes  are  taken.     When  the  choice  has  thus  been 
determined  with  perfect  freedom,  the   assembly  joins 
in  prayer,  and  the  bishop  proceeds  to  the  laying  on  of 
hands.t     The   consecrating  bishop  stands,  surrounded 
by  his  colleagues,  the  elders  and  deacons.      He  places 
his  hand  on    the    candidate.     Sometimes  -an    elder  is 
deputed  to  take  part  in  this  solemn  act.J     Subsequently 
It  became  the  custom  to  have  a  copy  of  the  Gospel 
held  by  the  deacons  over  the  head  of  the  consecrated 

*  "Const  Ethiop."  canon  2.     Bunsen,  "  Hippolytus,"  ii.  27. 
t  "  Const.  Apost."  viii.  4.  t  "  ^^°"^^-  ^^^''''^'    ^^''°''  ^- 


ORGANISATION  OF  LOCAL  CHURCHES.  63 

bishop.  The  bishop  presiding  at  the  ceremony  speaks 
in  these  words  :  "  O  our  Lord  and  Master,  Thou  who 
alone  art  eternal  and  supreme ;  Thou  who  livest  ever, 
who  wast  before  the  ages  ;  Thou,  the  truth,  the  only 
wise ;  Thou  who  art  love,  the  God  and  Father  of  Thine 
only  Son  Jesus  Christ ;  Thou,  the  Father  of  mercies 
and  the  God  of  all  consolation ;  Thou  who  hast 
determined  the  bounds  of  Thy  Church  by  Thy  power 
and  Thy  love ;  Thou  who  didst  choose  from  the  begin- 
ning the  holy  seed  of  Abraham,  raising  up  within  it  a 
royal  priesthood,  pour  out  now  the  virtue  of  Thy 
sovereign  Spirit.  O  Thou  who  boldest  the  hearts  of 
all,  give  to  Thy  servant  chosen  to  be  bishop,  to  feed 
Thy  flock  without  reproach  by  night  and  by  day,  and 
to  offer  to  Thee  in  lowliness  and  purity  of  heart  the  odour 
of  an  acceptable  sacrifice,  by  Jesus  Christ  Thy  Son,  our 
God  and  Saviour,  by  whom  and  the  Holy  Spirit  be 
honour  and  glory  to  Thee,  world  without  end."* 

The  terms  themselves  of  the  prayer  of  consecration 
set  aside  all  idea  of  magical  or  sacramental  grace.  It 
refers  only  to  the  spiritual  qualifications  necessary  for  a 
bishop,  and  to  the  gifts  of  the  Holy  Spirit  which  are 
requisite  for  the  due  fulfilment  of  his  office.  There  is 
no  ground  for  inferring  that  he  found  in  the  office  itself 
any  new  and  peculiar  virtue. 

At  the  conclusion  of  the  prayers,  the  consecrating 
bishop  proceeds  to  the  laying  on  of  hands,  and  then 
the  new  bishop  exchanges  the  kiss  of  brotherhood 
with  his  colleagues.  The  deacons,  accompanied  by  the 
elders,  bring  him  the  elements  of  the  Eucharist,  and 
he  blesses  them.     Then  the  newly-consecrated  bishop 

*  "Const.  Apost."  viii.  5. 


64  THE  EARLY  CHRISTIAN  CHURCH. 

gives  his  benediction  to  the  assembly.  '*  The  Lord  be 
with  you  all,"  he  says.  "  And  with  Thy  Spirit,"  is  the 
rejoinder  of  the  assembly.  The  bishop  adds,  ''  Lift  up 
your  hearts ;  let  us  render  praise  to  the  Lord."  ''As 
is  most  just  and  due,"  replies  the  assembly.  They 
then  proceed  to  the  celebration  of  the  Lord's  Supper.* 
When  persecution  renders  so  large  a  concourse  impos- 
sible, and  only  one  bishop  can  take  part  in  the  conse- 
cration, the  case  has  to  be  submitted  to  the  bishops  of 
the  neighbouring  Churches,  and  nothing  is  to  be  decided 
without  their  authorisation,  t 

The  elder  or  priest  occupies  the  second  rank  in  the 
Church,  after  the  bishop.  Though  subordinate,  he  is  yet 
associated  in  everything  with  the  bishop.  1  When  a 
young  Church  has  chosen  a  bishop  with  the  appointed 
forms,  it  is  for  him  to  associate  with  himself  as  soon  as 
possible  two  or  three  elders  among  the  members  of  his 
flock,  who  show  themselves  worthy  to  take  part  in  his 
sacred  work.  They  must  be  tried  men,  known  by  their 
Christian  charity,  and  gifted  with  that  largeness  of 
heart  which  ignores  mere  outward  distinctions.  Their 
model  is  the  four  and  twenty  elders  shown  to  us  in  the 
Book  of  Revelation,  on  the  right  hand  and  on  the  left 
of  the  heavenly  altar.  This  division  is  regarded  as 
symbolical  of  the  twofold  functions  of  the  elders.  The 
one  part  are  associated  wdth  the  bishop  in  the  celebra- 
tion of  worship,  and  the  other  in  the  teaching  and  care 
of  souls.  When  an  important  case  of  discipline  arises, 
and  the  delinquent  does  not  yield  to  the  first  exhorta- 
tions, all   the  elders  unite  to  sit  in  judgment  on  the 

*  "Const.  Copt."  ii.  31.  t  "Const.  Apost,"  viii.  27. 

J  "  Const,  Ethiop."  canon  4. 


ORGANISATION    OF    LOCAL    CHURCHES.  65 

question.*  Thus,  three  centuries  after  the  time  of  St. 
Paul,  we  find  the  same  distinction  which  he  established 
between  the  elders  devoted  to  the  pastorate,  properly  so 
called,  and  those  who  cultivated  the  gift  of  teaching. 
For  a  long  time  the  elders  were  chosen  by  the  people  ; 
subsequently,  their  election  was  entrusted  to  the  clergy 
alone,  t 

The  ordination  of  an  elder  resembles  in  all  points 
that  of  a  bishop,  with  only  the  necessary  moditications 
corresponding  to  his  lower  rank  in  the  Church.  The 
bishop,  surrounded  by  all  the  elders  and  deacons 
standing,  lays  his  hands  on  the  candidate  and  pro- 
nounces a  prayer  of  consecration,  which  has  come 
down  to  us  thus: — "O  God,  look  down  upon  Thy 
Church  ;  grant  to  it  to  increase  and  to  see  its  pastors 
multiplied  ;  may  they  receive  the  strength  they  need  to 
devote  themselves  in  word  and  deed  to  Thy  service. 
Look  now  on  Thy  servant  who  is  raised  to  the  office  of 
elder  by  the  vote  of  his  brethren.  Fill  him  with  the 
spirit  of  love  and  of  wisdom,  that  he  may  lead  Thy 
people  with  a  pure  heart ;  even  as  Thou  didst  com- 
mand Moses  to  give  elders  to  Thy  chosen  people,  filling 
them  with  Thy  Spirit.  And  now,  Lord,  preserve  to  us 
the  spirit  of  Thy  grace.  Fill  Thy  servant  with  the 
virtue  that  heals,  with  the  word  that  teaches  in  meek- 
ness, so  that  he  may  instruct  Thy  people  and  serve 
Thee  in  uprightness,  fulfilling  without  reproach  all  the 
duties  of  his  office."  J 

*  "Const.  Copt."i.  14. 

t  "i^nfiiJ  Kai  KpiafL  mv  kXtjoov.  Ibid.  viii.  1 6.  These  words  date  evi- 
ri..,-jHy  from  a  period  when  clericalism  had  mlly  triumphed,  and  may  be  only 
an  interpolation  suosenuent  to  the  Council  01  Niccea. 

X  "Const.  Copt."  v:i:.  16. 

6 


66  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

This  prayer  shows  how  nearly  the  office  of  elder  ap- 
proached that  of  bishop.  The  elder  might  even  baptise 
and  confirm  the  catechumens,  but  to  the  bishop  alone 
belonged  the  right   of  consecration.* 

The  diaconate  forms  the  third  office  in  the  Church. 
The  functions  of  the  deacons  are  better  defined  than  at 
the  beginning.  They  are  to  attend  to  the  material  part 
of  Divine  worship  ;  they  prepare  all  that  is  necessary 
for  its  celebration,  assist  the  neophytes  in  the  ceremony 
ci  baptism,  and  pass  from  hand  to  hand  the  bread 
and  wine  of  the  communion,  after  having  separated 
those  who  may  take  part  in  it.  Their  special  office  is 
always  the  care  of  the  poor.  They  are  not  only  to 
distribute  alms,  but  also  to  show  themselves  full  oi 
generous  kindness.  Their  hand  is  to  be  always  open. 
They  are  as  carefully  to  avoid  insolence  towards  the 
poor  as  servility  towards  the  rich,  remembering  them- 
selves, and  remembering  all  the  words  of  Christ :  "  I 
was  an  hungered,  and  ye  fed  me."  t  If  they  have  no 
share  in  the  government  of  the  Church,  they  have 
nevertheless  a  great  influence  over  the  Christian  people 
among  whom  they  live.  They  are  to  use  this  influence 
to  instruct  some,  to  reprove  others,  and  to  give  salutary 
warning  whenever  needed.  I  Those  who  despise  and 
resist  them  are  to  be  cut  off  from  the  Church.  We 
see  that  the  deacons  were  called  upon  to  take  an  im- 
portant part  in  cases  of  discipline.  It  was  also  their 
duty  to  make  the  bishop  acquainted  with  cases  of 
illness.  The  deacons  were  chosen  by  the  people  on 
the    favourable     testimony    of   three    members    of   the 

*  'O  yap  Trpio^vTipcQ  Xaf.€d-ei  f^ioiov,  aW  ov  ('iPo'fTi  k:X//^07'.  "Const. 
Copt."ii.  33.  t  Ibid.  i.   16-18. 

J  Ovg  fiiv  )'cv€eTOvvTec.     Ibid,  i,  16. 


ORGANISATION    OF   LOCAL   CHURCHES.  67 

Church ;  they  then  received  a  simple  laying  on  of 
hands  from  the  bishop  alone,  which  had  none  of  the 
solemnity  of  a  consecration,  properly  so  called.  In 
the  prayer  presented  to  God  on  their  behalf,  request 
was  made  that  the  spirit  of  Stephen  might  descend 
upon  them,  as  the  mantle  of  Elijah  upon  Elisha.* 

The  relations  of  the  three  orders  of  this  elementary 
hierarchy  are  defined  with  precision  in  the  eighth  book 
of  the  "  Apostolical  Constitutions."  Perhaps  the  state 
of  things  there  indicated  is  a  little  in  advance  of  the 
commencement  of  the  third  century.  It  certainly  pre- 
cedes the  very  important  transformation  of  the  ecclesi- 
astical office  which  we  shall  find  had  taken  place  before 
the  Council  of  Nicaea.  According  to  this  document, 
the  bishop  receives  the  benediction  only  from  the  hand 
of  a  bishop,  never  from  the  elders.  He  consecrates 
the  elements,  and  exercises  in  all  its  rigour  discipline 
over  his  clergy,  but  he  may  not  alone  exercise  the 
same  right  in  the  case  of  any  of  his  colleagues  in  the 
episcopate.  The  elder  receives  the  benediction  from 
the  bishop,  but  he  in  his  turn  may  bless  the  other 
elders.  He  lays  his  hand  upon  the  bread  and  wine  of 
the  communion,  but  he  does  not  consecrate  them  :  he 
may  only  use  discipline  towards  his  subordinates.  The 
deacon  receives  the  benediction,  but  never  gives  it. 
He  can  neither  baptise  nor  celebrate  the  communion. t 
In  case  of  necessity,  however,  these  rules  are  waived, 
and  the  deacon  may  perform  the  functions  of  the  elder, 
or  even  of  the  bishop,  when  visiting  persons  danger- 
ously ill.t 

*  "Const.  Apost."  viii.  17,  18.  t  Ibid.  viii.  28. 

I  TertuUian,  "  De  Baptismo,"  17.     In  the  time  of  Cyprian,  when  the 
hierarchy  was  very  strictly  defined,  the  deacon  might  perlorm  the  office  of 

6* 


68  THE   EARLY   CHRISTIAN  CHURCH. 

Below  the  diaconate,  the  Church  had  also  instituted 
another  subordinate  office  or  inferior  order  —  that  of 
reader,  thus  showing  the  importance  that  was  at- 
tached to  the  reading  of  Holy  Scripture  in  worship. 
Care  is  taken  that  lips  which  utter  the  Divine  oracles 
shall  be  pure.  No  one  is  allowed  to  be  a  reader  if  pro- 
fane mockery  or  idle  words  have  polluted  his  lips.  The 
reader  is  to  bring  his  life  into  accord  with  the  holy 
teachings  he  delivers  to  the  Christian  people.  It  is 
fitting  that  he  who  reads  the  gospel  be  a  faithful 
workman  before  God,  and  comprehend  the  importance 
of  his  task.*  The  reader  does  not  receive  the  laying 
on  of  hands.  The  bishop  simply  hands  to  him  the 
sacred  book,  and  offers  prayer  for  him.  t 

It  appears  that  even  at  this  time  the  deacons  were 
assisted  by  sub-deacons.:}: 

All  the  forms  of  consecration  are  dispensed  with  in  the 
case  of  confessors  who  have  been  in  bonds  for  the  name 
of  Christ.  Their  sufferings  are  considered  the  most  valid 
of  all  initiations.  If  one  of  these  is  chosen  to  be  elder 
or  deacon  he  is  at  once  appointed.  But  if  he  is  ap- 
pointed to  be  a  bishop  he  receives  the  imposition  of 
hands.  The  imprisonment  which  he  has  suffered  for 
the  name  of  Christ  is  regarded  as  sufficient  preparation 
for  the  highest  offices  ;  he  could  have  received  no  higher 
preparation  even  had  he  passed  through  the  schools  of 
the  most  illustrious  apologists,  such  as  Clement  of 
Alexandria  or  Origen.     He  is  only  required  to  offer  the 

a  bishop  for  a  dying  person.     Cyprian,  "Epist."  1 8.     This  latitude  must 
have  been  allowed  far  more  readily  at  an  earlier  period. 

*  'O    yap    lf.nTnr\MV    Cora    irepaiv    /nnXXoj-'    Trpocn'jKEi.    avrip  iivai  epyoLTtjv 
TTicFTop  Trapd  Tifi  6e({i.      "Const.  Copt. "i.  15. 

t  "  Const.  Apost."  viii.  22;  "  Const.  Copt."  ii.  35. 
•    I  "Const.  Apost. "viii.  21. 


ORGANISATION    OF    LOCAL  CHURCHES.  69 

eucharistic  prayer  before  the  Church,*  and  even  in 
this,  incorrectnesses  of  form  are  passed  over,  provided 
only  he  pray  entirely  in  a  right  faith.  Consecration 
was  also  considered  unnecessary  in  the  case  of  those 
who  had  the  gift  of  healing  the  sick.  No  official  con- 
firmation could  indeed  be  required  in  such  a  case,  since 
the  work  was  its  own  evidence.  The  same  rule  applied 
to  exorcists,  because  the  sovereign  power  of  God  was 
manifest  in  them.t  Celibacy  was  not  imposed  on  the 
bishops  and  elders,  although  a  prejudice  in  favour  of  it 
began  to  be  shown,  and  second  marriages  were  increas- 
ingly regarded  as  incompatible  with  office  in  the  Church. 
The  clergy  are  not  as  yet  distinguished  by  any  par- 
ticular vestments;  they  mix,  in  fact,  in  the  common 
life  of  the  people. 

The  great  art  of  primitive  Christianity  was  to  make 
all  special  aptitude  conduce  to  the  general  good,  and 
to  utilise  every  sort  of  gift.  Not  content  with  having 
raised  v/oman  from  her  former  low  estate,  and  given 
her  at  the  family  hearth  her  sweetest  and  holiest 
sphere,  it  also  found  a  place  for  her  in  the  work  of 
the  Church,  when  the  tender  and  sacred  links  of 
the  family  had  been  broken.  The  pagans  themselves 
took  note  of  this  fact.  Pliny  the  Younger  prosecuted 
in  the  tribunals  Christian  women  whom  he  called  by  a 
name  which  points  to  the  office  of  deaconess.  J  Lucian, 
in  his  biting  pamphlet,  "  Peregrinus,"  ridicules  some 
aged  women  who  carried  food  to  the  Christian  prisoners.§ 

*  Uag  KOTO.  Hiv  Svvafiiv  avrov  7rpo(revx^ff0w.      *' Const.  Copt."  ii.  34. 
t  Ibid.  ii.  39. 
X  "Ministrse."     Tliny  the  Younger,  "Ep."  x.  96. 
§  Lucian,  "Peregrinus,"  §  12. 


70  THE    EARLY   CHRISTIAN   CHURCH. 

He  is  evidently  alluding  to  the  widows,  who  as  early 
as  the  times  of  the  Apostles  were  not  only  succoured 
by  the  Church,  but  also  employed  by  it,'''  though  it  is 
difficult  to  discover  exactly  in  what  their  duties  differed 
from  those  of  the  deaconesses  proper,  whom  we  have 
already  mentioned.  Perhaps  there  was  no  difference 
between  them,  except  in  age  :  the  deaconess  does  not 
seem  to  have  been  under  such  strict  conditions  in  this 
respect  as  the  widow. 

At  the  close  of  the  second  century,  the  widows  of 
the  apostolic  age  bore  the  name  of  female  elders. t 
There  are  still  deaconesses,  but  they  fulfil  almost  the 
same  office.  As  there  were  no  clerical  orders  for 
women,  their  different  functions  were  not  very  clearly 
distinguished.  The  elder  differed  from  the  deacon  as 
forming  part  of  the  clergy,  and  receiving  consecration. 
But  there  was  no  such  distinction  in  the  case  of  the 
female  elder,  for  the  invariable  rule  of  the  Church  was 
that  no  woman  could  be  invested  with  any  sacerdotal 
character.  J  Thus  the  female  elder  received  no  laying  on 
of  hands ;  her  name  was  simply  mentioned  before  the 
Church,  when  she  was  admitted  to  join  the  other  widows 
holding  the  same  position.  There  was  then  no  essential 
difference  between  the  female  elder  and  the  deaconess. 
The  former  appears,  however,  to  have  more  especially 
devoted  herself  to  prayer ;  this  was  her  principal  calling, 
like  Anna  the  prophetess. §  She  was  to  feed  the  sacred 
flame  of  devotion,  to  implore  the  consolations  of  God  for 
tried  Christians,  and  to  seek  His  light.     In  the  small 

*  I  Tim.   V.   9. 

t  'H  7rpi(r(ivTiQ.      "  Const.  Copt."  ii.    37  ;  "  Const.  Apost."  iii.  5. 

\  Ovok  Trpoa^ipn  ovik  XiiTovpyu.      "Const.  Copt."  ii.  37. 

§  "Const.  Apost. "  iii.  i. 


ORGANISATION    OF    LOCAL    CHURCHES.  71 

Churches  two  widows  were  appointed  to  watch  unto 
prayer,  while  the  duty  of  a  third  was  to  wait  on  sick 
women:  all  three  were  to  let  the  elders  know  of  houses 
where  suffering  rendered  their  help  necessary.*  Perfect 
sobriety  was  required  of  these  widows,  and  entire  dis- 
interestedness. They  were  only  admitted  after  they  had 
been  long  widows,  and  had  been  proved  by  time,  "  for 
the  evil  passion  grows  old  with  one  who  will  permit  it  a 
place."  t  That  which  is  to  be  most  carefully  guarded 
against  is  the  possibility  of  a  second  marriage.  Ascetic 
ideas  will  be  easily  grafted  upon  this  institution,  hence 
the  condition  of  age  comes  in  the  end  to  be  regarded  as 
far  less  important  than  complete  chastity.  Widows 
of  forty  years  of  age  were  admitted,  and  even  young 
virgins.  J  We  have  in  this  institution  thus  transformed 
the  first  germs  of  the  religious  orders  of  women.  We 
are  as  yet,  however,  very  far  from  anything  of  this  kind, 
for  it  is  specified  that  the  virgin  who  gives  herself  to  the 
service  of  the  Church  is  not  to  receive  the  laying  on  of 
hands.  *'  She  remains  a  virgin  by  her  free  will  alone." 
The  life  of  chastity  is  her  choice,  and  its  design  is  not 
the  reproach  of  marriage,  but  the  service  of  God. § 

The  office  of  deaconess  corresponds  to  that  of  deacon, 
as  the  duties  of  the  female  elder  to  those  of  the  elder. 
She  performs  the  same  functions  for  her  own  sex. 
The  care  of  the  poor  is  her  chief  charge.     She  assists 

*  "Const.  A  post."  i.  .  17. 

t  Ta  Y^P  TTctdi]  taO'  ote  (TvyYi)oa  civQ^ottoiq.      '*  Coast.  Copt."  ii,  37. 

X  X/}pat  Kai  TrapOsi'OL  ttoWukii;  i'i]TTiviTO(jai>.  Ibid.  ii.  47.  Tertullia'i 
j-peaks  of  a  virgin  in  this  class  under  twenty  years,  of  a^e.  "  De  Virgin. 
\elandis,"  9.  Widows  under  forty  were  also  ailnii  ted.  Augustino, 
"Archeology,"  i.  253, 

§  Tv(x>}it)Q  i(rri  TO  tTraXOov,  ovk  i-iri  Si((6o\y  rou  ydfiov  aXk'  liri  (Txo^y  riji; 
tict^EiaQ.      "Const.  Apost. "  viii.  24. 


72  THE    EARLY    CI-IRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

the  female  catechumens  in  the  ceremony  of  baptism, 
and  occasionally  takes  part  in  their  religious  instruc- 
tion.* The  deaconess  was  expected  to  watch  over  the 
conduct  of  the  women,  and  to  report  on  it  to  the  elders 
and  the  bishop.  The  prohibition  of  the  laying  on  of 
hands  on  the  deaconesses  does  not  seem  to  have  been 
absolute,  for  we  find  traces  in  the  documents  of  a  cere- 
mony and  prayer  of  investiture  on  her  entering  upon 
her  duties,  t 

The  Church,  in  creating  offices  for  women,  was 
careful  not  to  close  the  door  of  Christian  usefulness 
against  any.  We  read  in  the  Coptic  document  : 
"  If  any  one  among  them,  being  neither  a  female 
elder  or  a  deaconess,  desires  to  do  good,  let  her  follow 
the  impulse  of  her  heart,  for  these  holy  deeds  are 
the  most  precious  treasures  of  the  l/0rd.":|:  Thus 
clearly  is  the  universal  priesthood  of  compassionate 
love  recognised.  It  mattered  little  to  the  Christian 
woman  that  she  was  excluded  from  the  ecclesiastical 
hierarchy,  since  she  might  rise  to  the  highest  rank  in 
the  order  of  charity.  An  obscure  tradition,  a  supposed 
fragment  of  the  Gospel  history,  found  currency  in  the 
East  on  the  subject  of  the  position  given  to  woman  in 
the  Church.  After  showing  that  Jesus  Christ  had 
Himself  excluded  woman  from  the  upper  chamber 
where  He  instituted  the  Lord's  Supper,  thus  showing 

*  "Const.  Apost."  viii.  29.  The  council  of  Carthage  (iv.  c.  12)  has  the 
follcAving  rule  with  regard  to  deaconesses  which  evidently  referred  to  an 
ancient  usage:  "  Ut  possint  apto  et  sacro  semione  docere  imperitas  et  rus- 
ticas  mulieres,  temjore  quo  Laptizandse  sunt:  qualiter  baptizatori  inter- 
rogatse  respondeant,  et  qualiter  accepto  baptismo  vivant. 

t  "Const.  Ai  ost. "  viii.  19. 

I  El  Tig  tTS()a  fStvXoiTO  ipyayaOav  TroiaVw  kcitcl  tt/v  TrpoOvfiiav  avTiJQ. 
"Const.  Co;it."  i.  17. 


ORGANISATION    OF  LOCAL   CHURCHES.  73 

that  she  was  to  take  no  part  in  the  consecration  of  the 
Divine  repast,  the  Christians  of  Egypt  related  that 
Martha  of  Bethany,  probably  irritated  at  the  exclusion, 
was  surprised  and  indignant  to  see  a  strange  smile  on 
the  face  of  Mary.  She  asked  her  the  reason  of  her 
mirth.  "  I  smile,"  said  Mary,  "  because  He  was 
teaching  us,  saying  that  our  weakness  shall  be  saved 
by  His  strength."*  What  does  this  mean  if  not  that 
woman  is  raised  by  Christ  above  all  which  seems  like 
inferiorit}^  and  finds  at  His  feet  the  sovereign  power  of 
love.  Feminine  charity,  personified  in  the  lowly  Mary, 
has  kept  its  heavenly  smile;  it  is  little  grief  to  the 
Christian  woman  that  she  is  excluded  from  the  great 
offices  in  the  Church,  since  it  is  hers  to  exercise  the 
most  glorious  and  effectual  of  all  ministries. t 

The  distribution  of  alms,  the  celebration  of  worship, 
the  agapae,  and  the  maintenance,  at  least  in  part,  of  the 
Christians  holding  office  in  the  Church,  entailed  great 
expense.  No  tax  was  levied  of  any  member  of  the 
Church.  "  No  one  is  under  any  constraint,"  says 
Tertullian  ;  "every  gift  is  to  be  free."  J  If  in  some 
Churches  they  followed  the  advice  of  Irengeus,  that 
they  should  at  least  not  come  behind  the  generosity  of 
ancient  Israel  in  bringing  to  God  the  tithes  and  first- 
fruits   of  all  their  goods,  this  was  not  a  general  law.§ 

*  To  cKrQevii;  cici  tov  Iffxvpov  <T(o6rjaiTai.  **  Const.  Copt."  i.  21. 
.  t  If  the  context  is  observed,  it  will  be  seen  that  no  other  meaning  can  be 
given  to  this  obscure  dialogue  between  Martha  and  Mary.  In  the  Coptic 
document  it  follows  immediately  on  the  declaration  that  the  woman  is 
excluded  from  taking  any  public  part  in  woi'ship.  Martha,  the  practical 
and  positive  woman,  cannot  comprehend  how  Mary  can  be  joyful  in  so 
inferior  a  position.  Mary's  reply  refers  to  the  Divine  compensation  which 
weakness  finds  in  the  strength  of  Christ  which  rests  upon  her,  lifting  her 
up  and  glorifying  her  by  love. 

I  "  Nemo  compellitur  sed  sponte  confert."     Tertullian,  "  Apol."  c.  39. 

§  Irenseus,  "  Contra  Hseres."  iv.  34. 


74  THE    EARLY   CHRISTIAN     CHURCH. 

Special  care  was  taken  to  preserve  the  spontaneous 
character  of  all  religious  acts  and  spiritual  benefits,  re- 
membering that  all  these  proceed  from  a  grace  which 
is  not  sold  but  given.  "  The  Holy  Spirit  is  not  to  be 
bought  with  money,"  said  an  ancient  synod,  "  and  we 
will  guard  against  anything  that  might  bear  any  sem- 
blance of  making  merchandise  of  the  sacraments."'" 
The  custom  was  established  of  laying  the  offerings  for 
the  Church  upon  the  eucharistic  table  before  the  cele- 
bration of  the  Lord's  Supper.  .When  the  first-fruits  of 
the  harvest  were  thus  brought,  the  bishop  offered  a 
thanksgiving  prayer  to  God  for  His  gifts. 

It  would  be  an  error,  however,  to  regard  this  custom 
as  an  ordinance  of  the  Church.  Subsequently,  towards 
the  end  of  the  third  century,  in  the  time  of  Cyprian,  we 
find  that  there  are  collectors  who  gather  from  house  to 
house  gifts  for  the  poor;t  but  never  till  the  council  of 
Nicaea  is  there  any  trace  of  regular  subsidies  levied  for 
the  bishops  and  elders.  The  principle  is  indeed  recog- 
nised that  these  have  a  right  to  be  supported,  but 
only  in  the  measure  of  their  necessities,  and  without 
being  themselves  released  from  labouring  for  their  own 
maintenance.  An  inscription  in  the  catacomb  of  St. 
Callisthus  informs  us  that  a  certain  Dionysius,  priest 
of  the  Church  of  Rome,  was  at  the  same  time  a  phy- 
sician.J  *'  The  elders,  elected  by  the  Church,"  says 
TertuUian,  *'  preside  in  our  midst,  having  gained  to 
themselves  this  honour,  not  by  payment  of  money,  but 

*  Ov^e  yap  imrpaii'cV)]  i)  x^'C'C  ovdk  xP'W<«<yt  Tui'  ayia(Ti.wv  tuv  Trvei'inaTog 
f.iiTaCiSoJfi^i^.  "  Concil.  Trull."  ii.  c.  23.  Such  limitations  apply,  a  fort/on, 
to  an  earlier  time.  "  Neque  pr^tio  ulla  res  Dfei  constat."  TertuUian, 
"Apol."39.  t  "  Sportulantium  fratrum."     Cyprian,  **Ep."i.  I. 

J  Rossi,  '*  Roma  Sotteranea. '"  i.  21. 


ORGANISATION    OF  LOCAL  CHURCHES.  75 

by  the  good  report  of  their  brethren,  for  no  Divine  thing 
is  to  be  acquired  for  money.  Every  one  gives  as  he 
can.  These  free-will  offerings  of  piety  are  not  spent  in 
feastings,  but  are  devoted  to  feed  the  poor,  orphans, 
and  aged  slaves,  to  succour  the  shipwrecked,  and  those 
exiled  in  mines  and  distant  islands.*  It  was  not  till 
long  after,  at  what  period  it  is  difficult  to  determine, 
that  a  certain  proportion  was  regularly  set  aside  from 
the  offerings  of  the  Church  for  the  maintenance  of  the 
clergy. t 

Thus  we  see  that  the  organisation  of  the  various 
Churches  was  in  process  of  transformation  at  the 
commencement  of  the  third  century.  Upon  this  slip- 
pery descent  it  is  difficult  to  mark  each  separate  step 
towards  the  hierarchy.  The  tendency  in  this  direction 
is  abroad  in  all  the  general  influences  of  the  time,  and 
these  gradually  modify  the  institutions  of  the  Church. 
Hence  it  is  impossible  to  trace  with  precision  the 
various  phases  of  the  evolution  up  to  the  time  when, 
like  the  crystal  disengaging  itself  from  the  liquid  in 
process  of  ebullition,  it  comes  forth  with  fixed  and 
definite  forms  from  its  previous  fluctuating  condition. 
Nevertheless,  the  great  features  of  the  primitive 
organisation  will  be  as  yet  retained  :  it  will  not  be  till 
after  the  defeat  of  the  illustrious  champions  of  liberty 
that  the  ecclesiastical  office  will  be  decidedly  trans- 
formed into  a  priesthood  alike  in  principle  and  in  fact. 

*  Tertullian,  "  Apol."  39.  t  **  Const.  Apost."  viii.  30. 


76  THE   EARLY   CHRISTIAN    CHURCH, 


CHAPTER   III. 

DISCIPLINE    IN  THE    CHURCHES  AT   THE  COMMENCEMENT 
OF   THE    THIRD    CENTURY. 

A  STERN  discipline  was  the  necessary  consequence  of 
the  principles  upon  which  the  Church  at  this  time 
rested.  Being  firmly  resolved  to  constitute  itself  a 
religious  society,  the  members  of  which  should  be 
united  by  the  bond  of  one  faith  and  holy  practice,  the 
Church  was  not  content  with  barring  its  doors  against 
indifference  and  worldliness ;  it  was  no  less  careful  to 
exclude  from  its  midst  anything  that  might  dishonour 
it  or  bring  disgrace  on  the  Christian  profession.  It  was 
not  enough  to  separate,  in  the  first  instance,  the  chaff 
from  the  wheat ;  it  was  needful  to  keep  a  constant  watch 
against  their  ever  becoming  intermingled.  Although 
Judaism  was  a  national  religion,  and,  unlike  Chris- 
tianity, received  its  members  by  birth,  the  synagogue 
3et  exercised  a  certain  discipline,  and  could  pronounce 
sentence  of  condemnation  which  excluded  the  offender 
from  the  common  feast.  This  was  a  sort  of  excommu- 
nication. The  man  born  blind,  who  was  healed  by 
Jesus  Christ,  became  the  subject  of  such  a  sentence.* 

The  great  difference  between  the  discipline  of  the 
synagogue  and  that  of  the  Church,  was  that  the  former 
being  exercised  in  the  name  of  theocratic  power,  pro- 

*  John  ix.  34. 


DISCIPLINE    IN    THE    CHURCHES.  77 

duced  civil  effects,  while  the  latter  extended  only  to 
the  religious  sphere.  The  religious  community  had 
been  constituted  a  spiritual  tribunal  to  judge  its  mem- 
bers before  it  actually  existed  at  all.  Jesus  Christ  had 
ordained,  as  it  were  in  anticipation,  that  the  differences 
between  Christians  should  be  brought  before  the 
Church.*  In  the  time  of  St.  Paul  discipline  was  ren- 
dered necessary  by  the  scandals  in  the  Church  at 
Corinth,  and  it  might  be  said  that  it  sprang  up  full 
armed.  The  delinquent  is  solemnly  excluded  from  the 
community,  in  the  name  of  the  Lord  Jesus,  by  the 
Church  assembled  for  that  purpose  :  he  is  thrown  back 
into  the  paganism  from  which  he  came  out  in  baptism, 
and  is  thus  delivered  over  again  to  the  dominion  of 
Satan. t  The  offender  excommunicated  from  the  primi- 
tive Church  is  left  to  the  judgment  of  Christ,  whose 
second  advent  is  daily  expected.  He  is  summoned  to 
appear  at  the  great  assize  of  the  infallible  Judge. 
Such  is  the  meaning  of  the  Christian  anathema  thus 
expressed:  "Maranatha!  The  Lord  comes." :}:  This  is 
more  in  accordance  with  the  spirit  of  the  gospel  than 
the  malediction  of  the  synagogue.  The  restoration  of 
the  penitent  sinner  was  as  public  as  his  exclusion,  and 
was  made  the  occasion  of  a  solemn  act  of  the  Church. § 
Discipline  naturally  grew  with  the  extraordinary 
progress  of  Christian  missions.  Miraculous  as  was  the 
fishing  for  souls  in  the  stormy  waters  of  paganism,  the 
gospel  net  necessarily  brought  to  land  much  that  was 
fit  only  to  be  cast  away.  We  have,  however,  no  posi- 
tive proofs  of  an  extended  organisation  of  ecclesiastical 

*  Matt,  xviii.  17.  t  l  Cor.  v.  1-7. 

+  Mapoi-'nSff.      Ibid:  xvi.  22.  §  2  Cor.  ii.  8,  li. 


78  THE   EARLY    CHRISTIAN   CHURCH. 

discipline  until  the  close  of  the  second  century.  There 
is  such  discipline,  since  the  Church  preserves  its  purity, 
and  is  on  her  guard  against  all  that  might  impair  it. 
The  "  Pastor  Hermas,"  in  spite  of  his  excessive 
severity,  admits  the  possibility  of  restoration,  if  the 
pledge  taken  in  baptism  has  been  broken  only  once. 
r)aptism  is  peculiarly  the  act  of  repentance.  God,  in 
His  goodness,  has  permitted  repentance  to  be  renewed, 
but  it  cannot  be  so  twice,  lest  the  hope  of  repeated 
restoration  give  the  rein  to  evil  passions.*  Such  are 
the  declarations  of  the  angel  of  repentance  to  Hermas. 
The  reference  here  is  obviously  to  an  ecclesiastical  act 
of. restoration,  not  to  individual  and  secret  repentance. 
/The  repentance  of  the  apostate  is  of  the  same  nature 
as  that  of  the  penitent  at  the  time  of  baptism  :  it  is 
consequently  equally  solemn  and  public  in  its  character. 
We  have  no  detailed  description  of  this  public  act,  or  of 
its  conditions.  Tertullian  gives  us  an  account  of  the 
discipline  of  the  Church  in  full  exercise.  He  says: 
'■  There  is  reason  to  believe  in  the  correspondence  be- 
tween the  free  judgment  of  God  and  that  of  the  Church, 
when  the  Church  has  pronounced  the  exclusion  of  the 
delinquent  from  its  prayers,  its  assemblies,  and  all  holy 
things.  This  discipline  takes  three  forms,  —  exhorta- 
tion, censure,  and  condemnation,  the  consequence  of 
which  is  exclusion."  t  Exclusion  is  based  upon  the 
same  grounds  which  forbade  admission  to  the  school 

*  "  Pastor  Hermas,"  ii.  Mandata,  iv.  3.  The  author  contradicts  him- 
self in  one  passage  of  the  similitudes  (vi.  3),  in  which  he  sets  aside  all 
l^ossibility  of  repentance  after  baptism.  In  this  he  is  clearly  in  advance  of 
the  general  opinion  of  his  day. 

t  "Ibidem  exhortationes,  castigationes  et  censura  divina."  Tertullian, 
"  Apol."39. 


DISCIPLINE    IN    THE    CHURCHES.  79 

of  catechumens,  and  which  we  have  aheady  carefully 
detailed.  Every  act  or  occupation  by  which  a  candi- 
date was  rendered  ineligible  for  baptism  was  regarded 
as  still  more  incompatible  with  the  Christian  profession. 
We  have  positive  evidence  of  the  identity  of  discipline 
in  both  cases.  We  know  how  strictly  the  Church  in- 
terdicted its  catechumens  from  any  callings  connected 
with  idolatry  or  the  theatre.  We  see  from  a  letter  of 
Cyprian  that  he  excludes  from  the  Church  a  professor 
of  stage  declamation.*  It  is  certain  that  the  earlier 
period  was  not  less  austere  in  its  discipline  than  the 
second  half  of  the  third  century.  We  conclude  then 
that  the  same  discipline  by  which  admission  to  the 
Church  was  guarded,  was  applied  to  all  its  members. 

A  sentence  implies  a  tribunal.  The  Church  sought 
no  other  tribunal  than  her  own  bishops  and  elders,  A 
general  surveillance  was  exercised  by  the  deacons  over 
the  men,  and  by  the  deaconesses  over  the  women.  The 
deacons  commence  by  exhorting  the  delinquents. t  If 
these  resist,  the  deacons  have  the  right  of  excluding 
them  from  the  Church. |  If  the  deacons  themselves  are 
in  fault,  they  come  under  the  jurisdiction  of  the  elders, 
and  these  in  their  turn  are  judged  only  by  the  bishop. § 
We  do  not  mean  by  this  that  theirs  is  the  only  case  of 
discipline  in  which  the  bishop  takes  part.  As  general 
director  and  guardian  of  the  Church,  the  bishop  can 
never  be  an  indifferent  party  in  so  grave  a  question. 
We  have  seen  that  the  deacon  was  bound  to  make  him 
acquainted  with  the  cases  of  sickness.  How  then  can 
we  suppose  he  would  leave  him  in  ignorance  of  scandals 

*  Cyprian,  "Ep."  2,  I.  t  "Const.  Copt."  i.  i6. 

I  Const.  Apost."  viii.  28.  §  "Const.  Copt."  ii.  28. 


So  THE    EARLY  CHRISTIAN   CHURCH. 

calling  for  repression  ?  It  is  probable  that  the  bishop 
was  satisfied  with  the  decision  of  the  deacons  in  the 
case  of  a  simple  member  of  the  Church,  and  with  that 
of  the  elders  in  the  case  of  a  deacon,  while  he  himself 
pronounced  upon  an  elder  who  had  failed  in  his  duty. 
The  bishop  could  be  condemned  only  by  another  bishop, 
which  implies  the  possibility  of  recourse  to  neighbour- 
ing Churches.  Disciplinary  power  is  always  exercised 
by  the  higher  over  the  lower.  We  trace  to  this  period 
one  of  the  gravest  abuses  that  arose  out  of  the  time 
of  fiery  persecution :  the  word  of  a  martyr  is  already 
allowed  to  have  extravagant  weight  in  the  restoration 
of  penitents.*  Subsequently  this  practice  became  the 
occasion  of  most  serious  controversies,  especially  at 
Carthage. 

We  cannot  discover  in  our  documents  any  precise 
rules  about  the  restoration  of  penitents  :  they  are  not 
subjected  to  any  disciplinary  penalties  by  way  of  expia- 
tion, nor  is  there  any  trace  of  clerical  absolution  which 
would  have  implied  a  priestly  power.  These  grave  in- 
novations date  from  a  later  period  ;  they  are  altogether 
foreign  to  the  Church  of  the  third  century.  The  prayer 
pronounced  on  behalf  of  the  penitents  at  the  close  of 
the  public  worship  before  the  celebration  of  the  com- 
munion, is  only  a  touching  invocation  of  the  Divine 
mercy,  containing  no  hint  of  a  mercenary  penitence, 
which  should  purchase  pardon  from  heaven  at  the  price 
of  so  much  suffering.  It  is  thus  expressed:  ''We  all 
pray  fervently  for  our  penitent  brethren^  May  the  God  of 
all  mercy  lead  them  in  the  path  of  repentance.  May 
He  accept   their  return  to  Him  and  their  confession. 

*  Tertnllian,  "  De  Pudicitia,"  22. 


DISCIPLINE    IN    THE    CHURCHES.  8l 

May  He  put  Satan  under  their  feet  shortly,  delivering 
them  from  the  snares  of  the  devil  and  the  assaults  of  the 
demons.  May  He  deliver  them  from  every  evil  word, 
from  every  forbidden  act  and  sinful  thought.  May  Ht 
pardon  their  offences,  both  voluntary  and  involuntarw 
May  He  destroy  the  writing  which  was  against  them, 
and  put  their  names  again  in  the  Book  of  Life,  purify- 
ing them  from  all  defilement  of  the  flesh  and  of  the 
spirit.  May  He  receive  them  again  into  His  holy  fold, 
for  Thou  knowest,  O  Lord,  that  we  are  but  dust.  Who 
among  us  shall  dare  to  say  that  he  has  a  pure  heart,  or 
is  free  from  sin  ?  Are  we  not  all  guilty  before  Thee  ? 
Once  again  we  entreat  Thee  earnestly  for  them,  know- 
ing that  there  is  joy  in  heaven  over  one  sinner  who 
repents.  Grant  them  to  renounce  every  evil  way,  and 
to  give  themselves  to  a  holy  life.  May  the  God  who 
loves  mankind,  speedily  accept  their  prayers,  and  restore 
them  to  their  lost  estate,  and  grant  them  again  the  joy 
of  His  salvation.  May  He  strengthen  them  with  His 
mighty  Spirit,  so  that  they  do  not  again  break  His 
law,  but  may  be  judged  meet  to  share  in  our  Divine 
mysteries,  and,  being  found  worthy  to  be  adopted  into 
Thy  family,  may  obtain  eternal  life. 

"  With  one  voice  we  pray  for  them.  O  God,  have 
mercy,  save  them,  restore  them  in  Thy  tender  mercy. 
Arise  ye  now  before  God  by  His  Christ ;  bow  the  head 
and  pray." 

Then  the  bishop  takes  the  place  of  the  deacon,  and 
prays  in  these  words  :  '^  God,  Eternal  and  Almighty, 
Sovereign  of  the  universe,  Judge  of  all.  Thou  who  hast 
shown  by  Christ  that  the  end  of  the  creation  was  man  ; 
Thou  who    hast  given  him  both  the  inward  and  the 

7 


82  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

written  law,  that  he  may  live  as  becomes  a  reasonable 
creature  ;  Thou  who  hast  granted  to  the  sinner  Thy 
mercy  as  the  pledge  that  Thou  dost  accept  his  repent- 
ance ;  look  upon  these  penitents  who  bow  their  hearts 
before  Thee  as  their  heads  are  bowed.  Thou  wiliest 
not  the  death  of  the  sinner,  but  his  repentance;  Thou 
wiliest  that  he  should  turn  from  his  evil  way  and  live. 
Thou  wast  pleased  to  accept  the  repentance  of  Nine- 
veh. Thou  wouldst  have  all  men  to  be  saved,  and  to 
come  to  the  knowledge  of  the  truth.  Thou  art  He 
who  dost  receive  with  fatherly  tenderness  the  prodigal 
son,  who  hath  wasted  his  substance  in  riotous  living, 
when  he  repents.  And  now  receive  in  mercy  these 
suppliants  who  come  back  to  Thee,  for  there  is  none 
who  sinneth  not  against  Thee.  If  Thou  Lord  shouldest 
mark  our  iniquities,  O  Lord  who  shall  stand  ?  Art  not 
Thou  the  God  of  mere}'  ?  Restore  Thou  these  to  their 
former  honour  and  dignity  in  Thy  Church,  by  Christ, 
our  God  and  Saviour,  by  whom  be  glory  to  Thee  in  the 
Holy  Spirit,  w^orld  without  end."''' 

It  is  clear  that  the  conditions  of  restoration  are  still 
entirely  spiritual.  There  is  no  priestly  caste  holding 
in  its  hands  the  keys  of  the  Divine  mercy,  and  claiming 
to  pronounce  direct  absolution  upon  the  sinners.  The 
mercy  of  God  is  invoked  upon  them  by  their  com- 
panions in  weakness  and  frailty,  who  smite  on  their 
own  breasts  as  sinners,  and  assume  no  superiority  over 
their  brethren.  The  penitents  are  brought  not  to  a 
piiest,  but  to  Him  who  received  the  woman  who  was 
a  sinner,  and  the  publican — to  the  Father  who  clasps 
the  prodigal  son  in  his  arms,  nay,  who  goes  to  meet  him 

*  "Const.  Apost."  viii,  8,  9. 


DISCIPLINE    IN    THE    CHURCHES.  S^ 

afar  off.  The  fomtain  of  pardon  is  not  sealed ;  it  flows 
full  and  free  at  the  foot  of  the  cross.  The  Church 
doubtless  requires  a  public  act  for  the  restoration  of 
the  penitents  to  her  communion,  but  she  does  not  pre- 
tend herself  to  be  the  dispenser  of  grace.  She  requires 
the  confession  of  the  sinner ;  she  claims  the  right  to 
verify  the  reality  of  his  repentance,  but  she  does  not 
put  herself  between  him  and  God. 

The  first  returning  act  of  the  fallen  Christian  was  to 
come  and  knock  at  the  door  of  the  Church.  This  was 
as  important  a  step  as  that  by  which  he  first  took  his 
place  publicly  among  the  penitents  who  were  required 
to  withdraw  as  unworthy  before  the  celebration  of  the 
Lord's  Supper.  It  expressed  a  firm  resolve  to  acknow- 
ledge the  sins  committed,  and  to  forsake  them. 

In  this  humble  attitude  confession  was  made.  Then, 
after  a  sufficient  time  of  trial  and  examination,  came 
the  public  confession  or  exomologesis,  which  Tertullian 
describes  with  his  usual  eloquence.  "  This  solemn  day 
is  preceded  by  a  time  of  strict  seclusion.  The  penitent 
is  to  be  clothed  in  garments  of  mourning,  analogous  to 
the  sackcloth  and  ashes  of  the  Israelites.  He  is  only 
to  break  his  fast  just  to  sustain  the  sinking  powers  of 
nature  ;  he  is  to  weep  and  lament  before  his  heavenly 
Father ;  he  is  to  throw  himself  at  the  feet  of  the  elders 
and  of  all  those  who  are  dear  to  God,  desiring  that  the 
prayers  of  all  his  brethren  may  ascend  on  his  behalf 
with  his  own."*  The  whole  Church  takes  part  in  the 
restoration  of  the  penitents.  Public  confession  is  made 
before  it,  but  the  confession  is  addressed  to  God,  not  as 

*  "  Presbyteris  advolvi,  et  caris  Dei  adgeniculari  omnibus  fratribus  lega- 
tiones  deprecationis  suae  adjungere.  Tertullian,  "  De  Poenit. "  9.  Comp. 
"  Const.  Apost."  ii.  16. 

J* 


84  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

though  He  did  not  know  the  offence,  but  because  this 
public  retractation  is  justly  His  due.* 

The  Church  of  the  second  century  recognises  God 
alone  as  the  supreme  Confessor  of  penitents.  Restora- 
tion is  granted  only  after  the  first  offence.  **  When 
the  door  of  innocence  has  been  long  closed,  and  that  of 
baptism  is  afterwards  obstructed,  one  other  way  is  still 
opened  to  the  sinning  soul.  In  the  vestibule  of  the 
Church  is  placed  the  door  of  second  repentance,  which 
opens  to  those  who  knock,  but  opens  only  once."t 

Such  is  the  rule  of  the  primitive  Church. 

The  restrictions  which  Tertullian  introduces  in  his 
treatise  "  De  Pudicitia,"  declaring  that  for  adultery 
and  murder  there  is  no  remission,  are  only  to  be  re- 
garded as  extravagances  of  his  fierce  Montanism.^ 
The  Church  never  adopted  so  rigorous  and  implacable 
a  rule. 

There  is  no  trace  during  this  period  of  any  private 
confession,  as  made  apart  from  the  public  confession, 
to  any  officers  of  the  Church.  No  passage  can  be 
brought  forward  in  support  of  such  an  institution, 
which  is  wholly  foreign  to  Christian  antiquity.  It 
dates  from  the  persecution  of  Decius,  a  period  which 
gives  us  an  entirely  new  development  of  Church  disci- 
pline, and  consequently  of  ecclesiastical  authority. 

*  **  Exomologesis  qua  delictum  Domino  nostro  confitemur."  Tertullian, 
"  De  Pcenit."  9. 

t  "  Jam  semel,  sed  amplius  nunquam."  Tertullian,  Ibid.  7 ;  Clement 
of  Alex.  "Strom."  ii.  13,  57. 

I  Tertullian,  "De  Pudicitia,"  3,  5» 


&5 


CHAPTER   IV. 

THE  RELATIONS  OF  THE  CHURCHES  AMONG  THEM- 
SELVES AT  THE  COMMENCEMENT  OF  THE  THIRD 
CENTURY. 

The  idea  of  one  great  Catholic  mother-Church  exer- 
cising authority  over  the  local  Churches  and  deciding 
their  differences,  is  in  process  of  development  at  the 
close  of  the  second  century,  but  is  very  far  from  being 
realised  as  yet.  The  old  independence  still  remains ; 
the  separa'^  Churches  move,  each  in  its  own  sphere, 
unfettered  by  any  regulations  imposed  from  without. 
One  Church  may  enter  into  relations  with  neighbouring 
Churches,  correspond  with  them,  draw  close  the  bonds 
of  Christian  brotherhood,  as  circumstances  may  sug- 
gest ;  but  these  relations  are  all  spontaneous,  not  part  of 
a  fixed  organisation.  There  is  no  central  and  supreme 
authority.  The  sense  of  unity  among  Christians  has 
been  strengthened  under  the  pressure  of  common  perils. 
Christendom  is  no  meaningless  word ;  one  current 
of  faith,  of  love,  of  missionary  zeal,  runs  through  all 
the  Churches  both  of  the  East  and  West;  the  blood  of 
the  martyrs  which  flows  in  every  land  is  the  firmest 
cement  to  bind  together  the  living  stones  of  the  build- 
ing, which   seeks    no    support    outside   of   itself.     The 


86  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

ecclesiastical  organisation  is  found  in  all  its  essential 
features  in  all  the  Christian  communities  scattered 
throughout  the  vast  Roman  Empire.  The}^  hold  the 
same  creed — a  creed  at  once  definite  and  broad — which 
allows  many  minor  differences,  the  result  of  free 
inquiry,  but  unfurls  above  them  all  the  banner  of 
Christ.  Every  neophyte,  on  coming  up  out  of  the 
water,  repeats  the  same  Credo,  which  echoes  from  one 
end  of  the  world  to  the  other.  Irenaeus  truly  says  that 
he  is  the  organ  of  all  the  Churches  throughout  the 
whole  world  when  he  expresses  the  Christian  faith  in 
its  fundamental  articles.*  He  does  not  write  under 
the  dictation  of  any  ecclesiastical  authority,  whether 
individual  or  collective,  which  would  haye  fixed 
the  terms  of  a  formal  proposition.  No.  Out  of  the 
largeness  of  his  heart,  as  he  beautifully  says,  comes 
that  fervent  and  simple  confession  which  expresses  the 
belief  in  which  all  Christians  lived,  and  for  which  they 
were  daily  ready  to  die.  There  is  the  same  unanimity 
in  the  repudiation  of  the  errors  which  threaten  the  vital 
truths  of  Christianity.  These  cannot  be  met  at  once  by 
a  definite  protest,  because  heresy  often  appears  cloaked 
in  a  subtle  and  deceitful  guise.  Each  particular  Church 
may  be  misled  for  a  while  by  some  artful  innovation, 
but  we  do  not  find  in  one  instance  that  any  important 
section  of  early  Christendom  persevered  in  serious 
error.  Any  teaching  which  really  compromised  the 
truth  of  the  gospel  was  in  the  end  set  aside,  even 
before  the  days  of  official  synods  and  formal  decrees, 
simply  by  the  true  intuition  of  the  Christian  heart. 
The  Church  has  an  instinct  of  self-preservation  which 

*  Irena;us,  *' Contra  Hceres."  i.  3. 


THE    RELATIONS   OF    THE    CHURCHES.  87 

keeps  it  safely  without  any  judicial  formalities.  In  this 
way  a  spiritual  Catholicity  gains  strength  without  as- 
suming a  fixed  and  hierarchical  form. 

There  is  then  as  yet  no  essential  change  in  the  con- 
dition of  things.  The  Church,  regarded  collectively  as 
the  bride  of  Christ,  is  not  confined  to  any  visible 
organisation ;  it  rises  above  all  outward  limitations, 
and  in  its  lofty  ideal  still  soars  above  imperfect  forms 
arid  local  restrictions.  Beneath  this  ideal  Church, 
which  is  everywhere,  and  yet  in  its  entirety  is  nowhere, 
since  it  is  a  great  spiritual  fact  perceived  by  God  alone, 
there  are  individual  Churches,  self-governing  communi- 
ties, each  having  its  own  little  hierarchy,  but  all  united 
in  a  common  bond  of  faith  and  love.  They  thus  share, 
and  share  in  proportion  as  they  are  animated  by  the 
Spirit  of  Christ,  in  that  spiritual  catholicity  which  is 
neither  a  chimera  nor  an  abstraction,  but  a  Divine 
reality,  which  no  organisation  can  either  contain  or 
restrain.  This  will  be  no  longer  the  case  when  this 
spiritual  unity  becomes  identified  with  a  vast  organised 
body  called  Catholicism,  having  a  visible  centre  and 
hierarchy.  Then  the  individual  Churches  will  be  ab- 
sorbed in  the  mother-Church,  to  which  they  will  be 
in  subjection.  It  cannot  be  denied  that  Irenseus  is 
leading  in  this  direction  when  he  speaks  of  the  episco- 
pate as  a  sacerdotal  institution  based  upon  apostolic 
succession.  But  here  again  the  idea  was  in  advance  of 
the  fact.  The  Christendom  of  this  epoch  is  not  one 
vast  organised  society  with  definite  powers,  and  with  a 
central  authority  exercised  over  the  local  Churches. 
These  retain  their  liberty,  and  the  unity  existing  among 
them   is  a  purely  spiritual  unity.     It  results  from  their 


88  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

agreement   in  thought   and   feeling;    hence   it   extends 
only  to  that  which  is  essential,  and  never  imposes  on 
them   the   3'oke    of   uniformity.      This    unity,   without 
losing  its  true  character,  assumes  some  outward  forms 
of    manifestation    which    are    not    the    less   important 
because  they  are  spontaneous  :  thus  the  Churches  cor- 
respond by  letter.     We  have  shown  that  this  practice, 
which  goes  back  to  apostolic  times,  was  in  full  exercise 
in    the    days    of   Ignatius,    Polycarp,    and   Clement  of 
Rome,  though  none  of  these  great  bishops  ever  take 
the  tone  of  authority.    They  write,  not  as  ecclesiastical 
dignitaries    addressing     inferiors,    but    as   brethren    to 
brethren,  offering  them   counsels,  and  exhorting  them 
to   fidelity  in    the  common    peril.      We   see   from   the 
"  Pastor   Hermas"    that  the  ancient  Church  attached 
great  importance   to   these    letters,   for   in  one   of  his 
visions  he  receives  the  command  to   communicate  his 
revelations  to  the  various  Churches  for  their  edifica- 
tion.*    One   of    the    finest    documents    of   the    second 
century  is  the  letter  of  the  Christians  of  Lyons  to  their 
brethren  in  Asia  Minor,  after  the  terrible  persecution 
which  had  decimated  their  Church,     It  has  no  clerical 
character;  it  is  not  the  language  of  a  bishop  addressing 
another  bishop,  or  of  a  metropolitan  who  transmits  his 
directions  or  exhortations  to  an  inferior ;  it  is  the  Church 
itself  in  its  totality,  which,  all  wounded  and  bleeding  from 
the  fierce  onslaught  of  persecution,  and  yet  victorious, 
recounts  its  conflict  and  its  triumph  to  those  brethren 
of  a  distant   land  whence  came  its  first  missionaries, 
and  to  whom  it  feels  itself  bound  by  strongest  ties  of 
love.      The  opening  passage  of  the   letter  shows,   far 

*  "  Pastor  Hermas,"  Visio  ii.  4. 


THE    RELATIONS    OF    THE    CHURCHES.  89 

better  than  any  arguments,  what  Catholicity  was  in  the 
second  century.  It  commences  thus  :  "  The  servants 
of  Christ  who  live  at  Vienna  and  at  Lyons  to  the 
brethren  in  Asia  and  Phrygia,  who  have  the  same  faith 
and  the  same  hope  of  redemption  with  us,  peace,  grace, 
and  glory  from  God  our  Father,  and  from  the  Lord 
Jesus  Christ."  * 

The  Churches  were  not  satisfied  with  letters  :  in 
cases  of  importance  they  sent  delegates.  Irenaeus, 
before  his  election  to  the  bishopric,  was  charged  by 
the  Church  of  Lyons  to  repair  to  Rome,  to  confer  on 
the  troubles  caused  by  the  Montanist  agitation.  The 
Bishop  of  Rome,  Eleutherus,  appears  to  have  wavered 
for  a  time  in  his  estimate  of  a  movement  which  had  a 
grand  prestige  of  austerity  about  it.t  The  Christians  of 
Gaul  desired  to  confer  with  their  brethren  of  Italy,  to 
have  an  understanding  and  come  to  an  agreement  with 
them.  Delegates  were  also  sent  on  the  same  occasion 
into  Asia  Minor  with  letters  which  might  be  described 
as  the  religious  testament  of  some  of  the  martyr-confes- 
sors recently  put  to  death.  The  object  of  this  depu- 
tation was  clearly  defined  :  its  great  aim  was  to  ensure 
the  peace  of  the  Churches. J  These  free  interchanges 
of  brotherly  love  were  considered  sufficient,  without  re- 
course to  any  imperious  subpoenas  or  formal  decrees  of 
doctrine. 

The  elevation  to  the  see  of  Lyons  of  Irenaeus,  the 
fervent  disciple  of  Polycarp,  bishop  of  Smyrna,  is  a 
fresh  proof  of  the  close  relation  subsisting  between  the 
Churches  of  the  East  and  the  West.     When  this  same 

*  Eusebius,  "  H.  E."  v.  I.  ^  ^t  Tertullian,  "Adv.  Prax."  i. 

:|:  T?}c  Twv  IkkXtjctuov  fipr]vr]g  h'SKa  7rpE(T€evovTeQ.   Eusebius,  "  H.  E."  v.  3. 


go  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

Polycarp  came  to  Rome,  Bishop  Soter  asked  him  to 
lay  his  hand  on  several  elders,  in  order  to  show  how 
truly  he  felt  himself  one  with  him  in  the  episcopal 
office.*  The  Communion  was  given  without  hesitation 
to  foreign  brethren. t 

It  was  not  only  ideas  and  opinions  that  were  inter- 
changed among  the  Churches  of  different  countries. 
The  bond  of  Christian  love  drew  them  far  more 
closely  together,  and  they  expressed  their  brotherly 
affection  in  many  practical  forms.  The  Christian 
who  was  journeying  found  a  home  wherever  he  found 
brethren  in  the  faith.  He  was  loaded  with  gifts  and 
treated  as  a  son  even  in  that  great  city  of  Rome, 
where  he  might  as  easily  have  been  lost  as  in  the 
desert.  Dionysius  of  Corinth  commends  Bishop  Soter 
for  his  truly  brotherly  kindness  to  strangers. J  The 
Christians  carried  letters  from  their  bishops  with  them 
as  credentials  on  their  journeys.  These  were  called 
cpistolcB  communicator  ice,  because  they  testified  that  their 
bearers  were  in  communion  with  the  Church,  and 
might  be  received  as  brethren.  In  conformity  with  the 
generous  usages  of  the  first  century,  the  Churches  sent 
abundant  alms  to  their  brethren  in  poverty,  whether 
they  were  confessors  suffering  at  home  or  Christians 
condemned  to  work  in  the  mines. § 

The  country  Churches  seem  to  have  been  in  a 
measure  dependent  upon  those  in  the  towns,  since, 
as  we  have  already  observed,  those  which  had  but 
very  few  members  were  instructed  to  seek  the  assist- 
ance  of  three  delegates  from   neighbouring   Churches 

*  Eusebius,  **H.  E."  v.  24.  ^  t  Ibid.  v.  24. 

:J;  A'tyoig  fiaKap'toiQ  tovq  avwvTag  dde\<povg  ojg  reKva  7rar>ip  fikoaTopyos 
iTujjaKciXMv.      Ibid.  iv.  23.  §  Ibid.  iv.  23. 


THE    RELATIONS    OF    THE    CHURCHES.  9I 

in   the    election    of    their   bishop.     The    ceremony    of 
consecration,  and  cases  of  episcopal  discipline,  called 
in  like  manner  for  the  assistance  of  these  Churches.* 
Thus   was   formed,    under   the    pressure    of    a   simple 
necessity,  the   first   germ   of   a   diocesan    organisation 
which  was  afterwards  to    receive    important    develop- 
ment.    The  local  Churches  were  called  parishes,  that 
is  to  say,   according   to   the    etymology  of  the  word, 
colonies  or  stations  on  a  journey,  to  remind  the  Chris- 
tians that  the   religious  life  is  a   pilgrimage   towards 
heaven.t     Some    Churches   were    distinguished    from 
others  by  a  sort  of  spiritual   supremacy :  these  were 
the  Churches  founded  by  the  apostles  or  their  imme- 
diate successors,  such  as  the  Churches  of  Jerusalem, 
Alexandria,  Antioch,  Rome,  and  Ephesus.     They  had 
no  jurisdiction  over  the  rest,  nor  was  any  one  of  them  a 
recognised  centre  of  authority  in  the  little  community. 
Their  importance  consisted  mainly  in  their  being  the 
surest    guardians    of    primitive    tradition.     They   are 
centres,   not  of  power,  but    of  information,   and   this 
is  no  less  true  of  the  powerful  Church  of  Rome  than  of 
the  rest.     Irenseus,  in  a  well-known  passage  already  in- 
terpreted by  us,  gives  greater  prominence  to  this  Church 
because  it  comes  more  within  his  cognizance  than  any 
other.!     It  is  evident  that  these  large  Churches,   by 
their  very  position,  had  a  preponderating  power.    Rome 
and  Alexandria  were  mighty  centres  of  thought,  making 
their  intellectual  i  fluence  felt  far  and  near.     In  the 
advantages  thus  arising  in  great  measure  from  purely 
external  circumstances,  Christian  teaching  necessarily 

*  "  Const.  Copt."  i.  13.  t  Tac  TrapoiKiag. ^  Eusebius,  "H.  E."  v.  24. 

X  Irenoeus,  **  Contra  Haeres."  iii.  3,  4. 


92  THE    EARLY   CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

shared,  and  thus  the  Churches  of  these  cities  acquired 
a  pre-eminence  which  was  the  natural  consequence  of 
a  favourable  situation,  not  an  established  right  of 
priority. 

Even  at  this  early  period,  in  important  and  difficult 
cases,  the  Churches  of  a  certain  district  were  wont  to 
assemble  in  conference  or  in  synods,  following  the 
example  of  the  apostles  at  Jerusalem  when  they  had 
been  called  to  decide  the  delicate  question  how  much 
of  the  ancient  ritual  was  binding  upon  the  Gentile 
converts.  These  synods  were  not  at  first  periodical ; 
they  were  simply  convened  when  the  necessity  arose, 
and  did  not  constitute  a  regular  deliberative  assembly. 
They  were  mainly  composed  of  bishops,  but  this  fact 
does  not  imply  any  systematic  exclusion  of  the  laity.* 
That  the  laity  had  a  full  right  to  take  part  is  abun- 
dantly proved  by  the  example  of  Origen.  When,  a 
century  later,  these  irregular  conferences  are  replaced 
by  periodical  synods,  we  shall  find  the  claim  of  the 
Christian  laity  expressly  reserved. t  These  early  synods 
make  no  pretension  whatever  either  to  infallibility  or 
to  authority  :  they  are  simple  conferences  convened  for 
the  purpose  of  mutual  assistance,  co-operation,  and 
counsel ;  for  removing  difficulties,  guarding  against 
dangers,  and  especially  for  repressing  rising  heresies. 
Greece  was  the  cradle  of  the  synodal  system.  This  was 
the  natural  product  of  a  soil  fertile  in  schools  of  every 
description,  in  which  the  art  of  philosophical  discussion 

*  Origen,  while  still  a  layman,  preached  at  Cresarea  before  an  assembly 
of  bishops,  which  Avas  no  doubt  of  a  synodal  character.  Eusebius,  "  H.  PI" 
vi.  19.  See  on  this  whole  question  of  early  synods,  Hoefele,  "  Concilien 
Geschichte, "  vol.  i.  introduction  and  chap.  i. 

t  "  Presbytero  et  plebibus  consistentibus. "  Fourth  council  of  Carthage. 
Routh,  "  Reliq.  Sacrae,"  iii.  loi. 


THE    RELATIONS    OF    THE    CHURCHES.  93 

with  all  its  marvellous  instruments  was  born.  *'  In 
certain  parts  of  Greece,"  says  Tertullian,  "  councils  or 
synods  are  held  in  the  name  of  all  the  Churches.  In 
these  councils  the  gravest  subjects  are  discussed :  these 
assemblies,  representative  of  the  Christian  name,  are 
regarded  with  great  respect."*  The  primitive  synod 
is  already  somewhat  transformed  and  idealised  by  the 
imagination  of  the  ardent  African,  yet  he  attributes  to 
these  assemblies,  which  he  exalts  so  highly,  no  other 
function  than  that  of  deliberating  in  common  :  he  does 
not  regard  them  as  constituting  any  final  authority. 

The  origin  of  these  synodal  conventions  is  perfectly 
simple.  An  unknown  writer,  who  had  taken  a  very 
active  part  in  the  resistance  to  Montanism,  before  that 
heresy  had  as  yet  become  schism,  narrates  (according 
to  Eusebius)  that  having  learned  that  the  Church  of 
Ancyra  in  Galatia  was  troubled  by  the  Montanists, 
and  uncertain  t  as  to  their  true  character,  he  visited  it 
with  one  of  the  elders  who  shared  with  him  in  the 
government  of  his  own  Church.  |  His  purpose  was  to 
enlighten  his  brethren  of  Ancyra  on  the  grave  errors 
which  for  a  moment  they  had  been  almost  ready  to 
accept.  The  elders  of  Ancyra  asked  him  to  leave  them 
in  writing  the  substance  of  his  exhortation,  and  he 
complied  with  their  wish.  Such  must  have  been  fre- 
quently the  occasion  of  the  first  synodal  gatherings. 
A  pious  bishop  learns  that  a  Church  is  in  danger  of 

*  **  Aguntur  per  GrEecias  ilia  certis  in  locis  concilia  ex  universis  ecclesiis, 
per  quae  et  altiora  quaeque  in  commune  tractantur,  et  ipsa  repraesentatio 
totius  nominis  Christiani  magna  veneratione  celebratur. "  Tertullian,  "  De 
Jejuniis,"  13. 

t  KaTaXa€u)v  Ttjv  Kara  ttovtov  tKKXrjaiav  hartBpvWrj^tvriv.  Eusebius, 
"H.  E.'' V.  16. 

\  liapovTOQ  ck  Tov  (yvjXTrp6(r€vrspov  ^fxujv.     Ibid.  v.  16. 


94  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

being  led  astray  by  false  teaching.  He,  of  his  own 
accord,  visits  the  Church,  taking  with  him,  to 
strengthen  his  hands,  one  of  his  colleagues  in  the 
ministry.  He  confers  with  the  elders  of  the  Church 
visited,  and  the  results  of  the  conference  are  preserved 
in  a  letter.  We  have  here  before  our  eyes  the  simple 
commencement  of  synodal  government  in  its  primitive 
form.  It  dates  probably  from  the  second  century,  for, 
according  to  the  text  of  Eusebius  which  we  have  just 
quoted,  we  are  still  in  the  period  when  the  elder  is 
scarcely  distinguished  from  the  bishop.  We  find  the 
synodal  system  somewhat  further  developed  a  few 
years  later,  when  Serapion,  bishop  of  Antioch,  wrote, 
on  the  subject  of  the  Montanist  heresies  of  Asia  Minor, 
a  letter  which  received  the  signature  of  a  large  number 
of  bishops.*  Evidently  this  mission  had  been  preceded 
by  a  conference,  in  which  several  Churches  had  been 
represented. 

The  difference  of  opinion  which  arose  at  the  close  of 
the  second  century  between  the  Churches  of  the  West 
and  of  Asia  Minor,  as  to  the  celebration  of  Easter,  gave 
rise  to  many  ecclesiastical  conferences.  This  dispute 
had  arisen  in  the  previous  period,  but  it  had  not  then 
troubled  the  peace  of  the  Church,  because  it  had  been 
considered  with  reason  as  referring  to  a  point  of  form 
purely  secondary.  The  Christians  of  Asia  Minor  held 
that  Easter  should  always  be  celebrated  on  the  14th 
Nisan,  that  is,  on  the  day  when  the  paschal  lamb  was 
slain  for  the  Jews.  Their  chief  reason  was  that  St. 
John  had  placed  the  crucifixion  of  the  Lord  on  this 
date.     Their  fast   lasted   only  till   the  evening  of  the 

*  'Y7ro<TT]fjieiM(rfig  cpipoprai  ha(p6pit)V  iinaKoTTwv.   Eusebius,  "H.  E."  v.  19. 


THE    RELATIONS   OF   THE   CHURCHES.  95 

14th  Nisan.  The  entire  feast  therefore  continued  only 
one  day,  and  they  did  not  consider  themselves  bound  to 
celebrate  it  on  a  Friday,  but  on  the  14th  Nisan,  when- 
ever that  occurred.  The  Christians  of  the  West,  on 
the  contrary,  would  only  enter  on  their  Easter  cele- 
bration on  the  anniversary  Sunday  of  the  resurrection, 
and  would  not  break  their  fast  till  the  great  time 
arrived  in  which  alone,  according  to  their  view,  it  was 
meet  and  fitting  to  rejoice.  The  question  acquired 
new  gravity  at  the  close  of  the  second  century,  when 
Victor,  bishop  of  Rome,  sought  to  compel  the  Churches 
of  Asia  Minor  to  conform  to  the  custom  of  the  West. 
He  convoked  synods  in  the  East  and  West  to  effect 
his  end.  Those  of  Mesopotamia,  Pontus,  Palestine, 
and  Gaul  were  of  his  opinion.*  At  Caesarea  the  party 
of  authority  expressed  itself  with  some  severity. 
The  synodal  letter  there  written  concludes  with  this 
injunction  :  "  Be  careful  to  send  copies  of  our  letter 
into  all  the  Churches,  so  that  we  may  not  be  charge- 
able with  the  errors  of  those  who  wander  from  the  way 
of  truth.  We  have  learned  that  the  Church  of  Alexan- 
dria celebrates  Easter  on  the  same  day  as  ourselves. 
We  have  ascertained  by  an  interchange  of  letters  that 
there  is  perfect  agreement  between  us  on  this  matter. "t 
Imperious  as  this  missive  is,  however,  it  makes  no 
pretension  whatever  to  the  possession  of  Divine 
authority  or  supernatural  illumination.  The  bishops 
of  Caisarea  have  conferred  with  the  great  Church  of 
Alexandria  ;  they  have  found  that  they  are  following 

*  Eusebius,  "  H.  E."  v.  24. 

t  Tj/g  8'  iTTKrroXfjg  ijj.iwv  TrupaOrjTe  koto.  Traaav  iKKXrjaiav  dvTtypcKpa 
haTrffixj/aaBai,  ottwi.'  /")  tvoxoi  (JJjxiV  roXg  pac(ioQ  TrXapo.aiv  iavrutv  rtlt' 
■ipvx"g.      Ibid.  V.  25. 


96  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

the  same  tradition  ;  and  they  only  give  their  decision 
after  having  elucidated  by  natural  means  a  simple 
question  of  fact. 

The  synod  which  wsls  held  at  Ephesus  under  the 
presidency  of  Bishop  Polycrates  felt  itself  in  no  w^ise 
bound  to  submit.  This  is  clear  from  the  firm  language 
used  by  this  great  bishop  to  Victor  in  the  letter  which 
he  sent  him  in  the  name  of  many  colleagues  :  *'  We 
shall  maintain  invariable,"  he  says,  "  our  own  observ- 
ance of  Easter  on  the  day  accustomed,  neither  adding 
nor  altering  anything.  Many  and  illustrious  witnesses 
of  the  great  resurrection  will  come  forth  from  their 
tombs  to  confirm  this  ancient  practice  of  Asia  Minor, 
foremost  among  them  John,  the  beloved  disciple,  who 
leaned  on  the  bosom  of  the  Master,  the  deacon  Philip 
and  his  holy  daughters,  one  of  whom  had  the  gift  of 
prophecy,  not  to  mention  a  legion  of  martyrs.  These 
have  all  followed  the  tradition  of  the  Gospel  and  the 
rule  of  the  Church.  And  I  also,  Polycrates,  who  am 
the  least  of  all,  will  not  depart  from  the  doctrine  of  my 
kindred,  for  seven  of  my  family  have  been  bishops,  and 
I  am  the  eighth.  I  have  always  celebrated  Easter  on 
the  day  of  unleavened  bread.  Therefore,  my  brother, 
having  arrived  at  my  sixtieth  year  in  the  Lord,  and 
having  consulted  many  of  the  brethren  throughout  the 
whole  Church,  and  sustaining  myself  up3n  sacred 
Scripture,  of  which  I  have  read  all  the  pages,  I  fear  not 
the  threats  of  any.  Those  greater  than  I  have  taught 
me  to  say:  It  is  better  to  obey  God  than  men."* 
Polycrates   concludes  by  declaring  that  he  speaks  not 

*  ^vfi€t€\T]KU)g  ToXg  dno  Tt}g  oiKovfievtiQ  ddeXcpoig  Kol  Trdaav  dyiuv  ypacpyjv 
cafKriXvduig.  .  .  Oi  ^/iou  f-iti^oveg  iipijKacri,  Trti^apxfif  da  6e(p  fxaXXov  fi 
avQ^MTTOig.     Eusebius,  "  H.  £."24. 


THE    RELATIONS    OF   THE    CHURCHES.  97 

simply  in  his  own  name,  but  that  he  could  prolong 
indefinitely  the  list  of  the  bishops  who  would  be  pre- 
pared to  sign  his  letter,  and  who  had  given  it  their 
entire  approval. 

Thus  one  synod  is  not  afraid  to  act  in  opposition 
to  other  synods :  the  decisions  of  the  Roman  west  are 
not  held  to  be  binding  at  Ephesus.  Polycrates  refers 
to  Scripture  and  to  the  tradition  of  the  apostles  and 
their  immediate  successors.  This  is  for  him  the  para- 
mount authority.  Above  all  ecclesiastical  conferences 
is  a  higher  power,  that  of  God  Himself,  to  which  alone 
he  is  prepared  to  yield  obedience,  in  the  measure  in 
which  the  Divine  will  is  made  known  to  him  by  the 
sacred  Scriptures  and  by  history.  It  is  remarkable 
that  the  grand  utterance  with  which  Peter  had  rebuked 
the  tyrannous  assumption  of  the  synagogue  should  be 
taken  up  by  the  Christian  conscience  as  its  watch- 
word against  the  first  usurpations  of  the  Roman  epis- 
copate. This  is  the  first  appeal  to  the  tribunal  of  Christ 
against  the  rising  hierarchy.  From  Socrates  to  Pas- 
cal, the  freedom  of  the  soul  is  sustained  in  the  same 
manner  in  the  face  of  purely  human  authorities,  so 
soon  as  these  infringe  on  the  domain  of  conscience. 

Bishop  Victor  maintained  his  claims,  and  sent  let- 
ters to  the  Churches  to  declare  that  his  opponents  at 
Csesarea  had  cut  themselves  off  from  the  communion 
of  the  Church  universal.  It  was  but  a  vain  effort.*  It 
went  beyond  any  measure  of  authority  which  the 
Christianity   of  the    second    century  was   prepared   to 

*  'EttI  TOVTOiQ  6  J.UV  BtKrwp  ciQooujq  Ttfq  'Aaiag  Trdarjg  cjg  hepodo^odorag 
aTTork/J-VELv  rfjg  KOLvfjg  ivJ)(T(u)g  TTtipaTca.      Eusebius,  "  H.  E. "  v.  24. 

8 


9b  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

recognise.     Several  bishops  sent  grave  remonstrances 
to  Bishop  Victor.* 

The  most  illustrious  of  these,  Irenseus,  in  a  synod 
held  in  Gaul,  wrote  to  Victor  in  his  own  name,  and  in 
the  name  of  his  colleagues,  a  letter  in  which  he  com- 
municated to  him  the  result  of  their  deliberations,  f 
After  arguing  the  point  in  question,  and  giving  his 
approval  of  the  Western  mode  of  celebrating  Easter, 
Irenseus  protests  in  distinct  terms  against  the  clainj 
put  forth  by  Bishop  Victor  to  impose  uniformity  upon 
the  Churches,  and  to  exclude  from  the  Christian  com- 
munity those  who  maintain  some  differences  in  the 
observance  of  worship  which  are  in  accordance  with 
ancient  tradition.  "  This  difference  in  the  celebra- 
tion of  the  Easter  fast,"  he  says,  "  does  not  date 
from  our  era :  it  goes  back  to  the  days  of  our  fathers. 
Those  who  then  presided  over  the  worship  of  the 
Church  may  have  been  somewhat  negligent ;  they  may 
have  failed  in  wisdom  and  discretion  in  bequeathing 
these  customs  to  the  generation  following.  But  peace 
has  nevertheless  been  preserved  among  all  Christians. 
Let  us  live  in  peace,  as  our  fathers  did.  Differences  in 
the  mode  of  fasting  still  leave  intact  the  unity  of  the 
faith." t  Irenaeus  appeals,  in  support  of  this  exhor- 
tation, to  the  generous  example  of  one  of  Victor's  pre- 
decessors, Bishop  Soter,  who  at  the  time  of  Polycarp's 
sojourn  in  Rome  did  not  hesitate,  in  spite  of  their 
decided. differences  on  the  question  of  Easter,  to  accord 
to  him  all  the  rights  of  a  bishop  in  his  own  Church. 
The   letter  of  the   Gallic   vsynod   was   sent  not   only  to 

*  II\ijKTiicw-e^)ov  tcaOaTTTOfiiviov  tcv  BiKTopog.      Eusebius,  "  H.E."  v.  24. 

t  Ibid.  V.  24. 

J  'H  ciafiiivia  rijg  vijardag   r)[v  vjicvoiav  Ttjg  iriaTHog  oviiaTrjai.      Ibid. 


THE    RELATIONS    OF   THE    CHURCHES.  99 

Victor,  but  to  a  large  number  of  Churches.*  Irengeus 
claimed  as  good  a  right  as  his  colleague  of  Rome  to 
speak  to  his  brethren  throughout  the  whole  world.  It 
was  not  at  all  by  Victor's  suggestion  that  he  had  con- 
voked the  synod  of  the  Gauls,  and  no  Roman  delegate 
had  sat  in  that  synod.  Its  resolutions  had  not  required 
any  confirmation  before  they  could  be  promulgated.  In 
fact,  the  synodal  letter  contained  an  energetic  protest 
against  the  first  attempts  of  the  Church  of  Rome  to 
constitute  a  central  power  and  to  abridge  the  liberty  of 
the  Churches. 

The  Church  of  the  second  century  remains,  then, 
to  the  very  close,  a  stranger  to  anything  like  hier- 
archical cei  t.alisation  :  it  knows  nothing  at  all  analo- 
gous to  the  papacy.  Every  bishop  has  an  equal  right 
to  bear  the  name  of  pope,  or  father.  The  religious 
community  constitutes  a  free  confederacy,  united  by 
living  bonds,  not  by  chains.  Synods  are  spontaneous 
assemblies  gathered  to  confer  on  difficult  questions  as 
they  arose,  but  without  any  pretension  to  supernatural 
wisdom  or  authority  in  their  decisions.  There  are  no 
fixed  rules  for  the  convocation  or  for  the  composition 
of  these  assemblies.  They  have  not  as  yet  any  official 
character.  We  have  Churches  firmly  constituted, 
finding  a  bond  of  spiritual  unity  in  their  common  faith 
and  love  ;  but  the  Christianity  of  these  times  is  widely 
different  from  an  external  catholicity,  with  one  central 
power  binding  together  all  the  various  communities 
into  one  great  hierarchical  organisation. 

*  Ov   fxovov  Tip  BiKTopi  KUL  iiu^Spoig  6e   rrXdaToig  dpxovmv  £»c»:\ij(7ti5v. 
Ibid.  V.  24. 


8* 


100  THE   EARLY   CHRISTIAN    CHURCH, 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE    ECCLESIASTICAL   CRISIS  OF  THE    THIRD    CENTURY — 
ITS    GENERAL    FEATURES    AT    ALEXANDRIA. 

§  I. — General  Character  of  the  Crisis, 

The  Church  passed  through  a  great  crisis  between  the 
years  220  and  280,  the  issue  of  which  was  the  triumph 
of  the  hierarchical  party.  The  victory  was  far  more 
severely  contested  than  is  commonly  supposed ;  the 
conflict  was  sharp,  especially  in  the  great  centres  of 
Christianity,  each  party  being  headed  by  some  of  the 
most  illustrious  representatives  of  the  faith.  The 
liberties  of  the  Church,  which  had  been  already 
abridged  in  the  preceding  period,  were  defended  with 
equal  courage  and  dignity,  though  it  would  be  idle  to 
deny  that  they  were  sometimes  compromised  by  ex- 
aggerations much  to  be  regretted.  The  hierarchical 
party  came  out  of  the  conflict  fortified  on  two  essential 
points.  In  the  previous  period  the  episcopate  had 
established  its  pre-eminence  over  the  office  of  elder ; 
it  had  become  indubitably  the  central  power  of  the 
local  Church.  It  now  assumed  a  new  attribute,  which 
gave  it  a  decidedly  priestly  character — the  prerogative 
of  remitting  sins.  In  the  second  place,  ecclesiastical 
centralisation,  the  constitution  of  one  visible  catholic 


GENERAL    CHARACTER   OF    THE    CRISIS.  lOI 

Church,  advanced  at  great  strides.  There  was  but 
one  more  step  to  be  taken,  and  its  organisation  would 
be  complete.  Such  was  the  twofold  result  of  the 
crisis  which  we  are  now  to  trace  through  its  various 
phases. 

Fresh  causes,  apart  from  those  already  indicated,  are 
at  work  to  favour  the  hierarchical  tendency.  Persecu- 
tion is  in  the  third  century  at  once  more  fierce  and 
more  frequently  recurring  than  heretofore.  In  the  short 
intervals  during  which  the  Church  enjoyed  profound 
peace,  she  increased  with  extraordinary  rapidity.  The 
crowd  of  proselytes  waiting  at  her  gate  becomes  more 
and  more  numerous ;  the  conditions  of  admission  are 
relaxed,  and  spiritual  declension  is  more  frequent  than 
of  old.  A  Church  largely  composed  of  nominal,  super- 
ficial Christians,  led  by  impulse  rather  than  by  serious 
personal  conviction,  is  very  apt  to  abandon  itself  to  the 
clergy,  that  it  may  be  relieved  of  the  heavy  burden  of 
moral  responsibility.  It  is  easy  to  perceive  haw  in 
such  a  Church  persecution  would  lead  to  many  defec- 
tions when  it  burst  forth  in  renewed  and  sudden  fury. 
The  cases  of  apostasy  are  innumerable,  and  the  ques- 
tion of  discipline  assumes  an  importance  altogether 
new.  Hitherto  restoration  to  Church-fellowship  had 
not  been  granted  to  Christians  who  had  denied  the 
faith,  but  in  the  middle  of  the  third  century  this 
barrier  is  removed.  It  is  deemed,  and  not  without 
reason,  imprudent  to  leave  the  apostates  finally  ex- 
cluded from  the  Church.  Their  restoration  adds  to 
the  strength  of  the  episcopate,  which  now  for  the  first 
time  claims  the  power  of  the  keys.  Hot  controver- 
sies arise  on  this  subject  between  the  representatives 


102  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

of  the  ancient  discipline  of  the  Church  and  the  sup- 
porters of  the  hierarchy.  Unhappily,  the  former  carry 
their  rigour  to  excess,  and  thus  aid  the  cause  of  their 
adversaries,  who  seem  to  have  on  their  side  reason  and 
moderation.  The  measure  of  their  indulgence  becomes 
therefore  the  measure  of  their  increase  of  authority. 
Thus  that  important  innovation  of  the  power  of  the 
keys,  which  would  not  have  been  accepted  by  any  section 
in  the  preceding  period,  is  now  received  by  the  Church 
in  its  irritation  against  the  extreme  Puritans,  who  would 
make  it  bend  beneath  a  yoke  of  implacable  discipline. 

The  very  ra.ure  of  these  debates  on  internal  disci- 
pline leads  to  a  notable  advance  in  the  constitution  of 
the  visible  catholic  Church,  and  contributes  effectually 
to  the  substitution  of  outward  unity  for  that  spiritual 
and  living  oneness  with  which  the  Church  had  been  so 
long  content.  In  fact,  while  the  great  controversy  of 
the  second  century  turned  on  points  of  doctrine,  this  of 
the  third  was  directed  chiefly  to  questions  of  organisa- 
tion and  discipline.  The  adversaries  with  whom  the 
Church  of  this  age  is  at  issue  are  no  longer  heretics, 
who  deny  the  essence  of  the  gospel ;  they  are  men 
whose  creed  is  in  the  main  orthodox,  or  differs  only 
from  that  generally  accepted  on  secondary  questions. 
The  point  of  difference  between  them  and  the  heads  of 
the  hierarchical  party  is  one  affecting  the  government 
of  the  Church,  not  its  doctrine.  The  opponents  of  the 
hierarchical  party  desire  a  Church  at  once  pure  and 
free,  in  which  the  universal  priesthood  is  the  natural 
corollary  of  the  holiness  of  all  the  members.  It  follows 
that  by  these  little  importance  is  attached  to  the  episco- 
pal office,  while  great  prominence  is  given  to  those  moral 


GENERAL    CHARACTER    OF   THE    CRISIS.  3  03 

qualities  which,  in  their  view,  alone  qualify  for  service 
in  the  Church.  Now  in  these  spiritual  qualifications 
there  is  no  monopoly ;  they  may  be  shared  equally 
among  all  Christians ;  indeed,  they  are  found  some- 
times in  a  higher  degree  among  the  humbler  members 
of  the  Church — the  laity.  The  hierarchical  party  is 
led  on  by  the  heat  of  controversy  to  maintain  precisely 
opposite  views,  and  to  exalt  the  office  at  the  expense  of 
the  spiritual  gift  or  qualification  for  it,  thus  preparing 
the  way  for  the  establishment  of  a  sort  of  holy  order 
more  or  less  independent  of  the  religious  life.  Irenseus, 
at  issue  with  Gnosticism  in  its  thousand  insidious 
forms,  regarded  the  episcopate  as  the  guardian  of 
apostolic  tradition,  the  recognised  defender  of  the  truth, 
which  it  possessed  as  a  heritage  by  virtue  of  an  un- 
interrupted succession.  Orthodoxy  was,  in  his  eyes, 
the  basis  of  ecclesiastical  authority,  and  the  common 
faith  the  bond  of  unity.  In  the  third  century  all  was 
changed ;  schismatics  took  the  place  of  heretics,  and 
separatism  occupied  far  more  attention  than  doctrinal 
error.  Unity  was  defended  rather  than  dogmatic 
truth,  which  latter  was,  in  fact,  but  feebly  assailed. 
Questions  of  organisation  are  the  vital  questions  of  the 
day.  A  visible  catholic  unity  shows  itself  more  and 
more  plainly  as  the  declared  opponent  of  the  ultrapu- 
ritanism  of  that  age,  which,  in  order  to  restore  a  pure 
Church,  breaks  with  Christianity  as  then  constituted. 
The  episcopate  is  regarded  pre-eminently  as  the  autho- 
ritative guardian  of  that  great  body  which  relaxes  its 
requirements  so  as  to  embrace  a  religious  company 
necessarily  of  a  very  mingled  character.  The  resistance 
offered  to  the  hierarchy,  by  its  very  extravagance,  drives 


104  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

the  Church  to  the  opposite  extreme.  But  it  is*  not  till 
the  close  of  the  third  century  that  the  victory  is  really 
decided.  The  opposition  did  not  always  display  the 
bitterness  and  narrowness  of  the  sectarian  spirit ;  there 
were  phases  of  the  contest  in  which  the  greatest  spirits 
of  the  Church  were  found  on  the  side  of  liberty.  Then 
the  struggle  was  long  and  often  dubious.  It  will  be 
our  task  to  describe  its  course  in  the  principal  centres 
of  the  Christendom  of  the  third  century  :  at  Alexandria, 
where  it  resulted  in  a  moderate  hierarchy;  at  Rome  and 
at  Carthage,  where,  owing  to  various  circumstances,  it 
resulted  in  the  complete  triumph  of  the  priestly  and 
governing  party.* 

§  2. — The  Ecclesiastical  Crisis  in  Alexandria. 

True  scientific  liberty  is  not  compatible  with  a  spirit 
of  bondage  in  the  social  organisation,  at  least  when  this 
mental  freedom  means  something  more  than  a  mere 
idle  curiosity  of  the  mind — a  sort  of  aristocratic  epicu- 
rism, which  thinks  to  mark  its  superiority  by  contempt 
for  all  that  is  not  purely  intellectual.  Alexandria 
was  the  metropolis  of  Christian  theology,  its  most 
brilliant  centre.  When  we  remember  that  the  higher 
class  of  its  catechumens  was  instructed  by  Clement 
and  Origen,  we  can  imagine  what  must  have  been  the 
intellectual  level  of  this  noble  Church.  Heroic  fervour 
blended  with  extraordinary  breadth  of  mental  culture. 
Such  a  Church  would  naturally  be  little  prepared  to 
bow  beneath  the  yoke  of  hierarchical  authority.     The 

*  On  this  whole  subject— the  crisis  of  the  third  century — the  best  book, 
apart  from  the  original  documents,  is-  RiLschl's  "  Die  Entstehung  der 
altcatholischen  Kirche."    2nd  edition.    Bonn,  1857. 


THE    ECCLESIASTICAL    CRISIS    IN    ALEXANDRIA.       I05 

Christians  of  Alexandria  were  for  the  most  part 
thinkers,  learned  men  and  confessors,  ever  ready  to 
defend  the  truth  by  word  and  by  blood.  They  were 
little  disposed  to  become  a  mute  and  docile  flock 
beneath  the  shepherd's  crook.  Moreover,  the  ideas 
that  had  been  instilled  into  them  in  the  school  of  the 
catechists  were  altogether  opposed  to  the  hierarchical 
tendency.  The  liberalism  of  this  great  Church  was 
manifest  in  its  very  constitution,  which  up  to  the 
commencement  of  the  third  century  maintained,  as 
of  old,  the  equality  of  bishops  and  elders.  The  bishop 
was  always  taken  from  among  the  elders,  and  it  was 
from  these,  his  former  colleagues,  that  he  received  the 
laying  on  of  hands,  without  the  intervention  of  any  other 
bishop.* 

Popular  election,  which  played  an  important  part  in 
the  time  of  Athanasius,  had  certainly  not  been  sup- 
pressed in  the  preceding  period.  The  elders  of  Alexan- 
dria, who  were  twelve  in  number,  had  doubtless  the  right 
of  presenting  or  naming  the  bishop,  if  we  adopt  Jerome's 
expression.!  The  people  confirmed  the  designation  by 
their  choice,  and  then  followed  the  consecration  of  the 
chosen. t     If  they  were  capable  of  conferring  the  epis- 

*  "  Alexandriae  a  Marco  evangelista  usque  ad  Heraclam  et  Dionysium 
episcopos  presbyteri  semper  unum  ex  se  electum  in  excelsiori  gradu  collo- 
catum  episcopum  nominabant."  St.  Jerome,  "  Ep.  ad  Evangel.  Op." 
iv.  p.  802.  t  ^h^V  "^^^  ^aov  TTavTOQ.    Gregor.  Naz.  "  Orat.,"  24. 

X  The  consecration  of  the  bishop,  named  from  among  the  twelve  elders, 
by  the  other  eleven,  is  attested  by  this  passage  from  the  annals  of  the 
patriarch  Eutychius.  "  Constituit  evangelista  Marcus  ut  cum  vacaret 
patriarchatus  ununa  e  duodecim  presbyteris  eligerent,  cujus  capiti  reliqui 
undecim  manus  imponentes  ipsi  benedicerent  et  patriarcham  crearent." 
Eutych.  Patr.  Alex.  "Annals,"  interpr.  Pocockio,  Oxon.  1658,  i.  331. 
When  Eutychius  asserts  that  there  were  no  bishops  properly  so  called  in 
Egypt  until  after  Demetrius,  he  is  in  direct  opposition  to  the  "Coptic  Con- 
stitution," i.  13. 


I06  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

copal  dignity,  they  must  have  themselves  possessed  its 
essential  attribute,  for  we  can  only  communicate  that 
which  we  have.  It  follows  that  they  did  not  recognise 
at  Alexandria  any  marked  distinction  between  the  two 
offices.  This  state  of  things  continued  till  the  bish- 
opric of  Heraclas  in  the  year  232.  From  this  date 
the  Church  of  Alexandria  conformed  to  the  general 
practice,  and  the  election  and  consecration  of  bishops 
were  conducted  according  to  the  general  traditions  of 
the  third  century.  It  is  therefore  averred  that  an 
important  change  in  favour  of  the  hierarchical  system 
was  made  at  Alexandria  at  the  very  time  when  the 
same  policy  was  triumphantly  established  in  Rome. 
It  is  impossible  to  suppose  that  this  change  was 
initiated  by  Heraclas,  who  was  the  successor  of  Origen 
in  the  school  of  the  catechists,  and  entirely  imbued 
tvith  his  spirit.  Evidently  the  way  had  been  prepared 
by  the  previous  bishop,  who  had  probably  already 
accepted  in  principle  the  new  order.  Now  this  pre- 
decessor of  Heraclas  was  that  very  bishop  Demetrius 
who  was  so  bitter  an  adversary  of  Origen,  especially  on 
matters  of  Church  government.  We  are  justified,  then, 
in  ascribing  this  radical  and  momentous  change  in  the 
episcopal  constitution  of  the  capital  of  Egypt  to  the 
same  influences  which,  a  few  years  before,  had  led  to 
the  exile  and  excommunication  of  Origen,  and  aimed  a 
blow,  in  his  person,  at  the  liberty  of  the  Church,  of 
which  he  was  the  most  enlightened  champion.  In 
order  to  understand  the  conduct  of  Demetrius  with 
regard  to  Origen,  we  must  have  some  idea  of  the 
breadth  of  view  of  the  great  Alexandrine  on  ecclesias- 
tical questions. 


THE    ECCLESIASTICAL    CRISIS    IN    ALEXANDRIA.       10/ 

We  have  confined  ourselves  to  a  brief  mention  of 
these  views  in  the  summary  already  given  of  his  theo- 
logical system,  and  have  presented  them  simply  as  a 
consequence  of  his  general  tenets.  It  will  be  needful  to 
dwell  on  them  more  at  large,  if  we  would  form  a  just 
idea  of  the  gravity  of  the  contest  between  him  and 
his  bishop.  The  special  circumstances  out  of  which  it 
arose  were  rather  the  occasion  for  it  than  its  true  cause. 

It  would  be  a  mistake  to  suppose  that  theological 
differences  were  really  the  main  ground  of  Origen's 
condemnation.  This  would  be  to  antedate,  as  it  were, 
the  rigid  orthodoxy  which  was  the  offspring  of  the  great 
councils,  armed  to  the  teeth  with  anathemas.  The 
most  daring  challenges  of  the  great  Alexandrine  were 
not  flung  at  any  official  credo,  and  his  teachings  were 
in  harmony  with  the  fundamental  articles  of  the  general 
belief  as  defined  by  Irenaeus.  There  exists  no  positive 
proof  that  Origen  was  condemned  for  his  doctrine.  He 
complains  that  the  notes  of  one  of  his  conferences  with 
the  Greek  heretics  had  been  tampered  with,  but  there 
is  no  indication  that  the  two  synods  which  condemned 
him  made  any  allusion  to  doctrinal  errors  as  forming 
the  charge  against  him.*  That  his  theology  should 
have  aroused  objections  and  awakened  fears,  even  in 
Egypt,  is  perfectly  comprehensible  ;  but  that  it  should 
have  led  to  his  excommunication  in  an  age  when  it 
was  the  admiration  of  the  Churches  of  Syria,  and  on 
the  point  of  being  represented  in  the  episcopal  see  of 
Alexandria  itself — this  is  beyond  belief.  The  deep 
divergence  between  the  views  of  Origen  and  of  Deme- 

*  "  Epistola  Origenis  ad  quosdam  amicos  Alexandriae."    Huet's  Edition. 
"  Opera,"  i.  6. 


I08  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

trius  on  the  subject  of  Church  organisation  and  autho- 
rity is  the  only  sufficient  explanation  of  the  vehement 
contest  which  arose. 

Nothing  can  be  more  beautiful  and  broad  than  the 
conception  of  the  Church  which  we  find  in  the  writings 
of  the  illustrious  catechist.  He  shows  with  perfect 
clearness  that  the  Church,  pure  and  spotless,  known 
of  God  alone,  formed  of  all  true  believers  on  earth  and 
in  heaven,  and  united  to  the  holy  angels,  differs  widely 
from  the  visible  Church,  which  is  the  partial  and  im- 
perfect realisation  of  the  Divine  ideal.  The  former  is 
the  Jerusalem  above,  the  Church  indeed,  into  which 
nothing  that  defileth  can  enter.*  The  visible  Church, 
on  the  contrary,  is  composed  of  a  multitude  of  separate 
Churches,  each  one  of  which  is  to  the  Christian  a  city 
built  by  the  Word  to  be  his  refuge. t  The  mission  of 
these  Churches  is  to  prepare  souls  to  enter  the  true  and 
invisible  Church,  in  which  they  find  eternal  salvation. 
The  perfect  Church  is  one  ;  the  visible  Churches,  on 
the  contrary,  are  many ;  they  are  still  learners  in  the 
school  of  holiness  and  perfection.  They  secure  the 
presence  of  Christ  by  prayer. J  These  Churches  are 
necessarily  of  a  mixed  character;  many  of  their  mem- 
bers do  not  walk  worthy  of  their  vocation,  and  do  it 
dishonour  by  evil  and  earthly  passions. §  Just  as  we 
see  on  the  stage  actors  who  simulate  heroism,  so  the 
Church  has  in  her  bosom  those  whose  profession  of 
religion  and  piety  is  but  a  farce.  || 

*  Ti]c    fikv    Kvptiog    tKKXiiaiaQ.        "  De    Orat."   20.    See   Redepennong, 
"Origenes,"  i.  351-361  ;  Origen,  "  Opera,"  i.  229. 

t  'E7roir)rT£  yfvkaQai  Travraxov  iKK\j]Tiog.      "  Contra  Celsum,"  iii.  29. 

I  Origen,  "In  Cantic.  cantic."  i. ;  "Opera,"  iii.  41. 
§  Ibid.  "  In  Matt."  xvi.  21  ;  "Opera,"  i.  751. 

II  Ibid.  **De  Oratione,"  20;  "  Opera,"  ii.  229. 


THE    ECCLESIASTICAL    CRISIS    IN    ALEXANDRIA.      IO9 

Not  all  the  baptized  are  saved ;  the  sacrament  does 
not  stand  in  the  stead  of  piety.  It  is  necessary  to 
labour  without  ceasing  for  the  purification  of  the 
Churches  by  means  of  a  discipline  which  is  to  be 
severe  and  yet  moderate,  and  exercised  only  with 
regard  to  matters  which  come  within  the  cognisance 
of  man.*  For  the  rest,  human  judgment  is  fallible  ; 
there  is  but  one  judgment  which  never  errs,  and  it  is 
this  which  shall  distinguish  in  the  temple  of  God  be- 
tween the  vessels  of  wrath  and  the  vessels  of  mercy. t 
With  respect  to  the  restoration  of  backsliders,  Origen 
remained  entirely  faithful  to  the  ancient  practice, 
which  did  not  sanction  it  in  cases  of  apostasy  or 
murder,  t 

He  lays  special  stress  on  the  necessity  of  guarding 
and  purifying  the  ecclesiastical  office,  for  when  this  is 
abandoned  to  mercenaries,  who  use  it  for  corrupt  pur- 
poses, it  is  degraded,  and  fails  of  its  purpose.  It  is 
then  valueless,  and  the  Church  is  bound  to  expel  from 
her  fellowship  any  one  who  profanes  it.§ 

The  power  of  the  keys  is  interpreted  on  most  exalted 
principles.  The  keys  which  open  the  gate  of  heaven 
are  chastity  and  justice  :  i|  hence  they  are  not  in  the 
hands  of  the  priests  alone ;  every  Christian  is  a  priest, 
and  taught  of  God.lf  He  even  becomes,  after  a  faithful 
confession,  like  the  Apostle  Peter,  for  in  building  like 

*  Origen,  **  In  Jesu  Nave   Horail."  xxi.  i;  **  Opera,"  ii.  447. 
t  Ibid.  "  In  Jerem.  Homil."  80;  "Opera,"  iii.  279. 
I  Ibid.  "In  Levitic.  Homil."  xv,  2;   "Opera,"  ii.  262;  "Da  Oratione," 
28,  vol.  i.  256.   Comp.  Exod.  viii.  5  ;   "Opera,"  vol.  ii.  160. 

§  Ibid.  "In  Jesu  Nave.  Homil."  7,  5,  6 ;   "  Opera,"  ii.  434,  435. 

!1  Ibid.  "In  Matt."  xii.  14;  "Opera,"  iii.  530. 

IT  Ibid.  "  Homilia  in  Numeros,"  3  j  "Opera,"  ii.  345. 


no  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

Peter  upon  the  rock,  which  is  Christ  Jesus,*  he  earns 
the  right  to  hear  the  symboHc  name.  The  power  of 
binding  and  condemning  is  to  be  used  with  the  greatest 
moderation  even  upon  heretics  ;  the  endeavour  should 
always  be,  by  inquiry  into  their  error,  to  win  them  back 
to  truth. t  All  this  was  at  the  opposite  extreme  from 
the  hierarchical  party,  who  only  regarded  external 
organisation,  and  attached  to  office  a  value  altogether 
disproportionate  to  that  of  moral  worth,  ever  exalting 
dignity  above  piety.  With  Origen,  living  piety  was 
the  one  great  essential,  the  only  true  qualification  of  a 
Christian  or  bishop,  the  only  channel  of  Divine  grace, 
finding  its  full  realisation  beyond  all  organisations  in 
the  one  ideal  Church  alone,  which  is  raised  above  all 
our  narrow  notions  and  darkened  judgments.  It  is 
to  this  higher  sphere  that  Origen,  excommunicated  by 
the  hierarchy,  looks  for  his  justification. 

Let  us  suppose  a  bishop  inclining  to  hierarchical 
notions  confronted  with  this  exalted  and  positive  libe- 
ralism, and  we  see  at  once  that  a  collision  is  inevitable. 
Origen,  moreover,  is  not  satisfied  with  laying  down 
general  principles  ;  he  passed  severe  judgment  upon 
the  Churches  of  his  day,  and  he  protested  with  indig- 
nant eloquence  against  the  ambition  of  the  bishops  in 
the  large  towns.  It  was  probably  after  his  return  from 
Rome,  and  his  visits  to  several  important  centres  of 
Christendom,  that  he  uttered  his  famous  homily  on  the 
buyers  in  the  temple.  He  compared  the  Churches  in 
which  worldliness  and  love    of  gain  were   the    ruling 

t  Origen,  "In  Matt."  xiii.  31  ;  "Opera,"  iii.  613.  Peter  is  here  re- 
garded as  the  type  of  the  perfect  Christian,  identifying  himself  with  the 
iJivine  rock,  which  is  Christ. 

t  Ibid.  "Contra  Celsuu),"  v.  63  ;  "Opera,"  i.  627. 


THE    ECCLESIASTICAL   CRISIS    IN    ALEXANDRIA.      Ill 

principles,  to  the  profaned  temple  of  Jerusalem.  He 
scourges  anew  with  the  whip  of  small  cords  these 
betrayers  of  their  trust.  *'  If  Jesus  Christ,"  he  says, 
"  wept,  with  reason,  over  Jerusalem,  is  it  not  yet  far 
more  evident  that  He  must  weep  over  the  Church, 
which,  having  been  built  for  a  house  of  prayer,  has 
been  made  a  den  of  thieves  by  the  avarice  and  luxury 
of  some  Christians,  among  whom,  alas !  we  must 
number  many  of  the  leaders  of  the  people  of  God  ?"  * 
Making  happy  use  of  his  allegorical  method,  Origen 
compares  the  bishops  who  traffic  in  Churches  to  the 
sellers  of  doves  in  the  temple.  He  would  that  their 
episcopal  chair  was  overturned,  like  the  table  of  the 
Jewish  money-changers,  and  he  adjures  Christ  to  come 
and  purify  His  temple  with  His  righteous  wrath  and 
stern  anathemas.t  Those  sell  the  Church  who  hand 
it  over  to  bishops,  elders,  and  deacons  who  are  without 
knowledge  or  piety,  and  disposed  to  use  their  authority 
tyrannically.  Let  those  who  boast  of  sitting  in  Moses* 
seat,  and  who  sell  and  hand  over  the  Churches  in  this 
way,  understand  what  Scripture  means  when  it  says 
that  "the  tables  of  the  sellers  of  doves  were  over- 
turned." It  is  time  to  restore  the  profaned  sanctuary 
to  the  purposes  of  prayer.  "  Let  all  those  who  occupy 
the  episcopal  chair,  and  who  love  to  take  the  upper- 
most places,  see  that  they  do  not  so  occupy  it  that  if 
Christ  were  to  return  He  would  overthrow  it."  J 

In  another  homily,  Origen  attacks  with  peculiar 
power  the   bishops    and    elders  who  had    relaxed    the 

*  E70f  fi))  Kal  TU)V  rjyovfisvcjv  tov  \aov.  "In  Matt.  Homil."  l6,  21 ; 
"  Opera,"  iii.  750. 

t  Mtra  Toiv  KaOiSpwv  Iv  aiQ  iKaOtZovTO  01  TroAovvTeg  Tag  TrfpiartpciQ. 
Ibid.  "Opera,"  iii.  751.  I  Origen,  "Id.  Opera,"  iii.  753. 


112  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

sinews  of  discipline,  and  forgotten  that  they  were  to  be 
as  the  open  eyes  of  holiness,  to  watch  over  the  Church.* 

Origen  was  not  aiming  at  Demetrius  in  these  strin- 
gent strictures  :  he  was  too  just  to  inflict  upon  him 
an  unmerited  castigation.  Nevertheless,  those  whom 
he  attacked  belonged  to  the  hierarchical  party :  it  was 
possible  that  the  Bishop  of  Alexandria,  who  had  not 
visited  their  Churches,  might  be  ignorant  of  their 
practices  while  he  approved  their  principles.  The 
burning  words  of  his  catechist  against  the  spirit  of 
domination,  against  all  that  seemed  to  menace  the 
liberty  of  the  Churches,  had  a  wider  application  than 
to  the  avarice  of  Zephyrinus  or  the  intrigues  of 
Callisthus.  The  situation  was  critical.  Demetrius  had 
long  been  the  friend  of  Origen ;  he  was  proud  of  the 
lustre  which  his  teaching  shed  upon  the  Church  of 
Alexandria.  The  feelings  of  base  jealousy  which  Euse- 
bius  imputes  to  him  are  gratuitously  supposed,  and 
rest  on  no  historical  basis.  That  which  is  certain  is 
that  Demetrius  sought  to  reinforce  the  episcopate,  and 
to  restrict  the  liberties  of  the  Christian  community. 

If  there  was  one  right  inherent  in  the  universal 
priesthood,  it  was  certainly  that  of  bearing  testimony 
before  the  Church  to  gospel  truth.  For  a  long  time, 
according  to  the  declaration  of  St.  Jerome,  all  taught. 
"When  ye  come  together,"  says  St,  Paul,  "every  one 
of  you  hath  a  psalm,  hath  a  doctrine,  hath  a  tongue, 
hath  a  revelation,  hath  an  interpretation.  Let  all  things 
be  done  unto  edifying."  t  The  most  ancient  portion  of 
the   "  Apostolical  Constitutions "   recognised  expressly 

*  Origen,  "  In  Jesu  Nave.  Homil."  7,  5,  6  ;    *'  Opera,"  ii.  434,  435, 
t  I  Cor.  xiv.  26. 


THE    ECCLESIASTICAL    CRISIS    IN    ALEXANDRIA,       IIJ 

the  right  of  the  laity  to  teach  publicly.*  In  Alexandria 
itself,  was  not  the  school  of  the  catechists,  which  was 
placed  at  the  very  threshold  of  the  Church,  presided 
over  by  a  layman  ?  Doubtless  religious  instruction 
passed,  de  facto,  more  and  more  into  the  hands  of  the 
clergy,  because  competency  for  the  work  was  in  general 
associated  with  the  ecclesiastical  office  ;  but,  de  jure, 
it  still  belonged  to  all  Christians.  Origen  on  his  first 
journey  in  Syria  was  called  to  preach  at  Csesarea  before 
several  bishops. t  No  one  deemed  that  his  doing  so 
was  a  breach  of  discipline  and  order ;  the  presence  and 
approval  of  the  bishops  showed  on  the  contrary  that 
the  act  was  perfectly  regular.  And  yet  when  Demetrius 
heard  of  this  preaching  of  Origen  he  was  much  offended. 
He  sent  a  letter  of  commination,  forbidding  him  an 
act  which  other  bishops,  his  equals,  had  held  to  be  per- 
fectly legitimate.  They  appealed  in  reply  to  the  ancient 
practice  of  the  Church.  They  said  that  ''  wherever  lay- 
men had  been  found  capable  of  edifying  the  Church, 
they  had  been  permitted  to  speak."  %  Demetrius  wrote 
a  second  letter,  and  sent  it  by  the  deacons  of  the 
Church  at  Alexandria,  to  mark  the  importance  he 
attached  to  this  prohibition. §  He  thus  openly  declared 
himself  one  of  the  chiefs  of  the  hierarchical  party. 

Origen  made  no  resistance  to  the  order  of  his 
bishop.  All  appeared  tranquil  till  some  years  later, 
about   the    year    228,    when    Origen,    being    again    at 

*  "Const,  Apost."  viii.  47.  ^  ,     ,    ,       .  _     . 

\''\ivda  Kai  dia\&Y^(y9ai  tclq  r£  6dag  kpj.a]viVHi>  ypa(pag  sti  tov  iculvoi'  "r, 
tKK\7]<Tiag  oi  TTjh  iwiaKOwoi,  Kairoi  rqg  tov  Trpea^vr^pu: l'  yuporov'uv: 
ouSiTUJ  TSTVxrjK^ora.     Eusebius,  "  H.  E."  vi.  19. 

+  "07r()t;  EvpiGKOvrai  oi  lTnri)cein  Tcphg  to  iocpEXeiy  TO^g  aciiXcpovc,  <«J 
TrapaKiXovvTUL  T(i>  Xo<[j  TrpofTOfiiXup  v~6  twv  ayioji'  tTViaKOTron'.      Ibid. 

§  kvOig  TOV  Ar]lXT]Tpiov  hd  ypafifxdTUJV  avTov  nvaicaXjjaavTog,  h'  avdpdi' 
rf  dutKoviDV  km^invaavTog  tTravtXBiiv  eig  ttt/v  'AXa'^di'^peiav.      Ibid. 

n 


114  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

Csesarea,  was  raised  to  the  dignity  of  elder  by  the 
bishop  Alexander  of  Jerusalem  and  several  of  his  col- 
leagues.* The  reason  of  this  step  is  not  difficult  to 
understand.  Public  preaching  had  been  forbidden  to 
Origen  as  a  layman.  The  bishops  of  Syria  could  not 
reconcile  themselves  to  the  silence  of  this  great  voice, 
which  they  had  invoked,  moreover,  to  oppose  the 
heretics  who  were  troubling  Achaia.  It  was  needful 
for  the  fulfilment  of  this  mission  that  he  should  be 
perfectly  free,  and  that  there  should  be  no  hindrance 
to  the  exercise  of  his  mighty  eloquence.  Origen  was 
furnished  with  a  letter  of  recommendation  from  his  own 
bishop,  which  seemed  a  sufficient  guarantee  that  his 
consecration  could  not  be  objectionable.  But  it  proved 
nothing  of  the  sort.  So  soon  as  Demetrius  learned  that 
his  catechist  had  been  made  deacon  without  his  concur- 
rence, and  outside  of  his  own  Church,  he  testified  the 
liveliest  indignation.  When  Origen  returned  to  Alex- 
andria two  years  later  (230),  he  found  himself  the  subject 
of  the  gravest  accusations.  Not  willing  to  provoke 
dissension  in  the  Church,  he  returned  to  Syria,  where 
he  was  sure  to  find  a  welcome  and  devoted  friends. 
Demetrius  was  not  disarmed  by  this  departure.  He 
convoked  for  the  first  time  a  synod,  in  which  sat 
several  Egyptian  bishops  and  elders  of  the  Church  of 
Alexandria.  Origen  was  pronounced  unworthy  to  fill 
his  post  of  catechist,  and  was  excluded  from  the  Church, 
but  no  judgment  was  passed  upon  the  validity  of  his 
consecration. t 

*  Eusebius,  "  H.  E."  vi.  23. 

t  "EvvoSog  aOfjoi'C^rai  tTriaKOTrcov  icai  tivojv  Trpfytvrspo^v  Kara  'Optyiiovc' 
y  Ik  ^T](pi'C^TC(i  pfraarfivai  piv  otto  ' AKt^av^ otiag  tov  'OQiyevtjv.  .  .  ftj'jTt 
ii8c«TKeiv.     rhotius,   "  Codex,"  u8. 


THE    ECCLESIASTICAL    CRISIS    IN    ALEXANDRIA.       II5 

Demetrius  was  not  yet  satisfied.  He  convoked  a 
fresh  synod,  but  to  this  he  admitted  none  of  the  elders 
of  the  Church,  probably  because  they  were  attached 
to  Origen,  and  he  made  a  selection  even  among  the 
bishops.  An  assembly  thus  packed  was  at  his  com- 
mand :  it  completed  the  work  of  the  first  synod,  by 
declaring  that  Origen  could  not  hold  the  office  of  elder.* 
The  decisions  of  the  two  synods  were  sent  to  all  the 
Churches,  and  were  ratified  except  by  those  of  Palestine, 
Phoenicia,  Arabia,  and  Achaia.  Demetrius  died  the 
following  year.  Origen  might  have  had  himself  rein- 
stated by  Bishop  Heraclas,  his  disciple  and  friend,  but 
he  preferred  not  to  reopen  controversies,  from  which 
his  great  soul  recoiled.  During  the  whole  of  this  crisis 
of  his  life  he  displayed  remarkable  firmness  and  gentle- 
ness, a  full  conviction  of  the  justice  of  his  cause,  but 
a  mind  far  above  petty  recrimination.  In  this  way  a 
man  honours  a  noble  cause,  and  commands  the  respect 
even  of  his  bitter  adversaries. 

In  order  to  comprehend  the  bearing  of  the  act  of 
Demetrius,  we  must  judge  of  it  not  by  the  rules  in 
operation  in  the  period  following,  when  the  Catholic 
Church  was  fully  constituted,  but  by  the  institutions  of 
his  day.  It  is  false  to  attempt  to  explain  his  conduct 
simply  on  the  ground  of  the  imprudent  asceticism  of 
Origen  in  his  youth.  The  so-called  apostolical  canon, 
which  forbids  the  priesthood  to  a  eunuch,  was  not  then 
in  force  in  the  Church,  else  the  resistance  of  the 
Churches  of  Syria  would  have  been  quelled  by  the 
simple  appeal  to  an   accepted   rule,  and  the  elders  of 

*"Oye  Ariixtjrpiog  li^a  tktiv  tirtnKOTTOiq  AiyvTrnoig,  Kai  t^q  ispojavptjQ 
aTTtKripv^e.     Photius,  "Codex,"  118. 

g* 


Il6  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

Alexandria  would  not  have  hesitated,  in  the  first  synod, 
to  degrade  Origen.  It  appears  that  Demetrius  had 
made  the  mutilation  of  Origen  an  objection,  but  not 
as  the  determining  reason,  and  it  seems  to  have  had 
no  decisive  influence.  The  true  offence  was  his  con- 
secration out  of  his  own  Church.  But  from  the 
standpoint  of  primitive  Christianity  there  was  nothing 
abnormal  or  illegal  in  this.  The  Church  was  held 
united  in  all  its  parts  by  one  common  bond  of  faith  and 
love,  while  each  separate  Church  was  free  to  move  at 
will  in  its  own  particular  sphere,  so  long  as  the  bases  of 
the  one  faith  were  maintained  and  respected.  Spiritual 
oneness,  independence  in  internal  government  of  the 
^'arious  Churches — these  were  the  two  features  which 
characterised  the  Christianity  of  that  day.  Every 
Christian,  coming  from  whence  he  might,  felt  himself 
Lt  home  in  any  Church ;  he  shared  in  its  worship,  and 
took  part  in  its  inner  life.  This  was  the  evidence  of 
unity.  Independence  was  guaranteed  by  the  absence 
cf  an}^  official  interference  of  one  Church  in  the  r^overn- 
ment  of  another  ;  while  at  the  same  time  there  was  a  free 
interchange  of  communications,  counsels,  exhortations, 
bearing  no  official  character.  In  such  a  state  of  things, 
what  could  be  more  natural  than  the  consecration  of 
Origen  by  the  bishops  of  Jerusalem,  of  Caesarea,  and 
the  surrounding  towns  ?  As  a  Christian  he  belonged 
to  these  Churches;  there  he  found  his  spiritual  father- 
land and  home.  Being  called  to  fulfil  an  important 
mission  in  their  name,  he  received  the  investiture 
which  facilitated  his  work.  He  would  have  been 
wrong  if  he  had  appealed  for  permission  to  Alex- 
andria,   since    this    was    another    ecclesiastical    orga- 


THE    ECCLESIASTICAL    CRISIS    IN    ALEXANDRIA.       II7 

nisalion  equally  independent ;  but  he  was  right  in 
receiving  the  ofBce  of  elder,  to  qualify  him  for  his 
work  in  the  East  and  in  Greece.  The  first  synod  con- 
voked by  Demetrius,  while  it  showed  a  strong  animus 
against  Origen,  did  not  venture  to  dispute  his  con- 
secration. It  follows  that  to  that  assembly  it  seemed 
legitimate.  It  needed  a  packed  synod  to  secure  a 
majority  to  annul  the  act  of  the  bishops  of  Syria. 
There  was  here,  then,  a  flagrant  innovation,  else  the 
decision  would  not  have  cost  so  many  efforts  and  in- 
trigues. Demetrius  thus  took  a  great  step  towards 
placing  the  constitution  of  the  Church  upon  a  hierar- 
chical basis ;  he  sought  to  transform  it  into  one  great 
body,  subject  throughout  to  the  same  rules,  divided 
into  fixed  dioceses,  which  could  never  encroach  upon 
one  another.  He  intended  that  the  Churches  of  the 
East  should  bring  their  ecclesiastical  life  into  exact 
accordance  with  that  of  the  other  Churches,  as  though 
all  belonged  to  the  same  organisation.  Uniformity  was 
thus  placed  above  spiritual  unity.  The  same  spirit  of 
domination  made  itself  felt,  no  doubt,  in  the  internal 
government  of  the  Church  of  Alexandria,  and  hence, 
as  we  have  indicated,  it  was  during  the  episcopate  of 
Demetrius  that  the  ecclesiastical  revolution,  so  to 
speak,  was  prepared,  by  which  the  elders  lost  their 
right  of  consecrating  the  bishop  of  the  metropolis  of 
Egypt. 

The  hierarchical  system  does  not  seem  to  have  made 
any  further  advance  at  Alexandria  till  the  close  of  the 
century  ;  the  question  of  discipline  was  not  raised  in 
that  Church.  Heraclas  and  Dionysius  continued  the 
tradition   of  their  great  teachers  and  predecessors,  a 


Il8  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

tradition  which  accorded  ill  with  the  bias  of  the  clerical 
party.  The  wind  of  reaction,  which  blew  more  and 
more  over  the  Christianity  of  the  third  century,  had 
nevertheless  passed  upon  Alexandria  also.  It  is  im- 
portant for  us  to  note  that  the  hierarchical  tendency 
had  no  more  declared  enemy  than  Origen,  the  finest 
genius  of  Christian  theology.  His  activity  in  this 
sphere  has  been  hitherto  too  little  noticed. 


119 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE    CRISIS    IN     ROME.* 

Reactionary  movements  gain  in  violence  by  the  mea- 
sure of  "resistance  they  encounter.  At  Alexandria  the 
opposition  to  the  hierarchical  system  was  broad  and 
moderate,  as  might  have  been  expected  from  the  noble 
spirit  of  Origen,  hence  the  episcopal  party  was  not 
driven  to  any  extreme  measures.  It  was  otherwise  at 
Rome,  in  that  narrow  and  fervid  atmosphere,  in  which 
ecclesiastical  prejudices  in  the  Church  were  not  held 
in  check  by  the  development  of  Christian  knowledge. 
Resistance  there  was  from  the  first,  fierce  and  deter- 
mined, such  as  could  not  fail  to  exacerbate  the  clerical 
party,  and  urge  them  on  in  their  course.  Montanism 
also,  by  its  extreme  rigour  on  the  one  hand,  might 
incite  the  victorious  party  to  exaggerate  their  own 
principles  on  the  other. 

We  have  considered  the  sect  of  Montanus  in  its  com- 
plete development,  and  under  the  form  finally  assumed 
by  it,  which  rendered  it  irreconcilable  with  the  Church. 
Even  thus,  it  would  be  unjust  to  liken  it  to  those  here- 
sies which  assailed  the  fundamental  doctrines  of  the 

*  See  Ritschl,  "  Entstehung  der  catholischen  Kirche  "  p.  529.  Bunsen, 
"  Hippolytus,"  i.  91-102,  See  my  article  on  the  Church  of  Rome  in  the 
Second  Century,  "  Revue  Chretienne,"  1856,  pp.  6-65. 


120  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

gospel.  It  is  easy  to  understand  how,  before  grave 
discussions  had  opened  men's  eyes  to  the  dangers  to 
which  it  exposed  the  ecclesiastical  order,  it  came  to 
be  accepted  as  orthodox  teaching,  and  gathered  nume- 
rous adherents,  especially  in  the  West,  for  in  the  East, 
near  its  cradle,  its  visionaries  had  talked  so  loudly,  and 
raised  so  much  opposition,  that  all  were  on  their  guard 
against  them.  Rome  was  a  region  well  adapted  to 
receive  Montanism.  The  Church,  at  the  close  of  the 
second  century,  there  formed  a  world  of  its  own  ;  its 
members  were  counted  by  thousands,  and  new  adher- 
ents were  added  every  day,  especially  when  persecution 
was  relaxed  or  for  awhile  suspended.  This  multitude  of 
neophytes  could  not  breathe  with  impunity  the  impure 
atmosphere  of  the  Greco-Roman  world.  It  needed  a 
rare  firmness  to  close  heart  and  eyes  against  the  satur- 
nalia of  a  brilliant  and  corrupt  civilisation,  which  had 
at  its  command  the  treasures  of  the  world,  and  seemed 
impatient  to  consume  them  for  the  satisfaction  of  its 
insatiable  lusts.  The  Church  of  Rome  received  its 
members  not  only  from  the  slave  mart,  the  workshop 
of  the  artisan,  and  the  low  Jews'  quarters.  The  palace 
of  the  Csesars  had  been  open  to  it  from  the  tim.e  of  St. 
Paul.  Biases  patricians,  high-born  ladies,  feeling  that 
eniiui  of  life  of  which  Seneca  speaks,  had  attached  them- 
selves more  or  less  openly  to  the  new  religion.  They 
had  come  with  their  hands  full  of  gifts ;  their  munifi- 
cence had  ministered  to  the  poor,  and  had  enabled  the 
Church  to  adorn  the  tombs  of  the  martyrs.  They  had 
probably  led  on  by  their  example  a  number  of  others, 
who  had  joined  the  Church  rather  under  their  influence 
than  as  a  matter  of  personal  conviction.     Hence  some 


THE    CRISIS    IN    ROME.  121 

relaxation  of  primitive  austerity  began  to  show  itself  in 
this  great  Church. 

A  party  of  stern  disciplinarians  was  formed  in  oppo- 
sition to  this  broader  and  more  indulgent  school.  We 
have  watched  its  rise  with  "Pastor  Hermas " — a 
preacher  of  repentance  like  John  the  Baptist.  It  did 
not  constitute  itself  into  a  particular  sect,  or  separate 
in  any  way  from  the  Church  ;  it  formed  the  elect  body 
within  the  Church,  and  did  not  always  observe  the 
bounds  of  moderation.  The  early  Montanists  who 
came  to  Rome  gathered  around  them  the  Christians 
in  whom  the  spirit  of  Hermas  still  breathed.  The 
Montanists  do  not  appear  to  have  been  regarded  as 
innovators :  they  observed  a  prudent  silence  upon  their 
doctrine  of  continuous  inspiration,  and  made  no  allu- 
sion to  the  oracles  of  their  prophetess.  Had  they  acted 
otherwise,  they  would  have  at  once  provoked  opposi- 
tion, and  called  down  upon  themselves  the  reprobation 
of  a  Church  so  temperate  and  conservative  as  that  of 
Rome.  The  fact  that  they  lived  there  for  some  time 
in  peace  is  sufficient  evidence  of  their  prudence.  They 
contented  themselves  with  insisting  on  the  moral  aspect 
of  their  doctrine,  protesting  against  the  corruption  of 
the  age,  and  the  degeneracy  of  the  manner  of  life  in  the 
Church.  They  denounced  unsparingly  all  second  mar- 
riages, enjoined  excessive  fastings,  and  stigmatised  in 
strong  terms  every  measure  of  prudence  adopted  with 
a  view  to  escape  martyrdom.  On  all  these  points  they 
met  with  much  ready  sympathy,  for  they  only  carried 
to  its  logical  consequences  the  rigorous  principles  which 
had  been  already  instilled  into  one  section  of  the  Roman 
Church.     The  most  important  element  of  their  teach- 


122  THE   EARLY   CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

ing,  which  gained  currency  probably  through  individual 
propagandism,  was  the  idea  they  entertained  of  the 
Church.  They  would  have  it  absolutely  pure,  and 
claimed  for  it  perfect  holiness,  as  if  in  its  earthly  and 
visible  condition  it  were  possible  for  it  to  realise  com- 
pletel}^  its  Divine  ideal.  From  this  point  of  view  the 
ecclesiastical  office  lost  all  its  importance.  "  That 
which  constitutes  the  Church,"  they  said,  "is  the 
Holy  Spirit  in  the  spiritual  man,  not  the  number  of 
bishops."*  The  predilection  of  Montanism  for  a  state 
of  ecstasy,  and  for  the  supernatural  gift  of  prophecy, 
led  to  the  same  result.  In  order  to  maintain  this  spot- 
less purity  of  the  Church,  the  disciples  of  Montanus 
opposed  the  public  restoration  of  open  offenders ;  they 
did  not  allow  that  incontinence  of  life  could  ever  re- 
ceive pardon  before  men,  and  they  rejected  absolutely 
that  second  repentance,  which  had  been  universally  re- 
cognised. The  distinction  between  venial  and  mortal 
sins  being  carried  to  this  extreme,  no  room  was  left  for 
the  Church  to  erect  her  tribunal  of  penitence.  Now,  as 
it  was  from  this  tribunal  that  the  episcopal  rule  was 
to  be  mainly  exercised,  the  hierarchical  tendency  en- 
countered in  Montanism  its  most  determined  opponent. 
The  hostility  between  the  two  parties  did  not  at  once 
assume  the  form  of  open  warfare.  The  rupture  would 
have  come  much  sooner  but  for  the  intervention  of  the 
Christians  of  Gaul,  who  seem  to  have  been  at  first 
favourable  to  Montanism.  The  confessors  of  Lyons 
appear  to  have  felt  a  lively  sympathy  with  these  great 
apologists  of  martyrdom.  The  Church  of  Lyons  learned 
that  Montanism  was  arousing  some  opposition  in  Rome, 

*  Tertullian,  "De  Pudicitia,"  21. 


THE    CRISIS    IN    ROME.  12^, 

and  that  Bishop  Eleutherus  was  disposed  to  condemn 
it.  Irengeus  was  sent  to  Rome,  as  the  bearer  of  a  letter 
recommending  peace.*  Eleutherus  was  induced  by  this 
powerful  intervention  to  adhere  to  a  pacific  course. 
The  Montanists  were  spared,  and  allowed  to  carry  on 
their  mission.  The  hierarchical  party  was  not,  how- 
ever, so  easily  disarmed.  The  contest  was  quickly 
revived.  Tertullian  fanned  the  ilame  during  his  so- 
journ in  Rome.  He  arrived  in  that  city  at  a  critical 
moment,  when  the  episcopal  party  was  preparing  its 
gravest  usurpations  under  Bishop  Zephyrinus. 

Of  this  crisis  we  are  able  to  give  an  exact  account 
from  some  new  documents,  which  have  supplied  us,  as 
it  were,  with  the  details  of  the  battle,  of  which,  for  a 
long  while,  only  the  final  issues  were  known.  The 
discovery  of  the  "  Philosophoumena  "  of  Hippolytus 
has  thrown  much  light  on  the  fierce  struggle  for  the 
power  of  the  episcopate,  carried  on  in  the  capital  of  the 
empire.  The  visit  of  Tertullian  to  Rome  forms  an 
important  era  in  this  struggle.  The  circumstances 
which  led  him  there,  the  contest  in  which  he  took  part, 
the  grave  consequences  of  his  intervention — all  are  of 
moment  in  this  critical  hour.  After  the  journey  of 
Irenaeus  and  his  pacific  mission,  Montanism  had  con- 
tinued to  develop  in  the  Church  of  Rome,  without 
becoming  declared  schism,  though  it  ceased  not  to 
propagate  schismatic  views.  It  is  evident  that  a  rup- 
ture was  inevitable.  Irengeus  himself,  better  instructed 
as  to  the  nature  of  teaching  which  was  in  flagrant 
opposition  to  his  own  conceptions  of  the  episcopate, 
had  disavowed  and  refuted    it    in  his   great  work   on 

*  Eusebius,  "  H.  E."  v,  4. 


124  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH, 

heresies.  The  official  condemnation  was,  however, 
still  wanting.  The  question  had  been  left  undecided. 
It  was  under  Bishop  Victor,  the  successor  of  Eleu- 
therus  (185-197),  that  this  prolonged  hesitation  was 
brought  to  an  end.  Even  then  it  needed  the  inter- 
vention of  a  heretic  of  Asia  Minor,  the  Unitarian 
Praxeas,  whose  heresy  was  not  at  first  discovered  by 
the  Christians  of  Rome,  who  w^ere  little  versed  in  the 
deep  things  of  theology,  and  liable  to  grave  miscon- 
ceptions in  the  domain  of  thought.  Praxeas  was  the 
sworn  enemy  of  Montanism,  objecting  vehemently  to 
its  Trinitarian  teaching.*  The  disciples  of  Montanus 
insisted  with  peculiar  emphasis  on  the  distinction  of 
the  Divine  Persons,  in  order  to  exalt  as  much  as  pos- 
sible the  Paraclete,  and  through  Him  the  continuous 
inspiration,  of  which  they  regarded  themselves  as  the 
representatives.  Praxeas  obtained  their  formal  excom- 
munication from  Bishop  Victor,  and  w^th  all  the  more 
ease  because  Caius,  a  teacher  venerated  throughout 
the  West,  had  sharply  attacked  the  millenarian  ideas 
of  Montanism.  He  would  not  have  succeeded  so  easily 
if  the  Bishop  of  Rome,  an  avowed  partisan  of  the  hier- 
archy, and  much  disposed  to  sustain  its  most  extrava- 
gant pretensions,  had  not  found  in  this  condemnation 
the  opportunity  of  striking  a  blow  at  a  party  which 
had  strongly  opposed  him  on  ecclesiastical  questions. t 
Tertullian,  although  already  strongly  inclined  to 
Montanist  severity,  had   not   yet    actually  joined  the 

*  See  "Early  Years  of  Christianity,"  vol.  iii.  "Heresy  and  Christian 
Doctrine,"  1 39-141. 

t  "Idem  tunc  episcopum  Romanum,  agnoscentem  jam  prophetias  Mon- 
tani,  coegit  et  literas  pacis  revocare  jam  emissas."  Tertullian,  "Adv. 
i'rax."  I. 


THE    CRISIS    IN    ROME.  I25 

sect ;  or,  rather,  as  Montanism  was  not  yet  organised 
as  a  schism  in  the  West,  there  had  been  no  occasion 
for  the  fiery  Carthaginian  to  break  with  the  Church. 
When  he  learned  that  a  notorious  heretic  like  Praxeas 
had  obtained  the  condemnation  of  austere  men,  who 
seemed  to  him  as  the  very  salt  of  the  earth  and  of  the 
Church,  he  could  contain  himself  no  longer.  He  arrived 
in  Rome  overflowing  with  indignation,  and  engaged 
the  clergy  of  the  city  in  passionate  polemics,  the  effect 
of  which  was  to  gather  around  him  those  whom  Bishop 
Victor  had  excommunicated.  The  theological  question 
became  confounded  with  the  question  of  discipline  ; 
it  was  at  once  the  libert}^  and  the  holiness  of  the 
Church  which  Tertullian  defended  with  all  the  zeal 
and  vehemence  of  his  nature,  as  may  be  clearly  seen 
from  his  treatise,  ''  De  Pudicitia,"  which  bears  the 
glowing  impress  of  these  hot  disputes.  It  is  true  that 
the  state  in  which  Tertullian  found  the  Church  of  Rome 
was  well  fitted  to  exasperate  him.  Here  the  testimony 
of  Hippolytus  is  of  great  value,  for  it  fills  a  gap  in 
the  history  of  this  period,  so  important  to  the  Church 
of  Rome.* 

Bishop  Victor  had  been  succeeded  in  the  year  197 
by  Zephyrinus,  an  ignorant  man,  little  versed  in  eccle- 
siastical matters,  and  even  accused  of  an  immoderate 
love  of  money.  He  was  an  indifferent  priest,  well 
fitted  to  become  the  tool  of  an  intriguer.  He  had 
fallen  entirely  under  the  influence  of  Callisthus.     This 

*  The  principal  authority  for  this  crisis  in  the  Church  of  Rome  is  the 
"  Fhilosophoumena  '  of  Hipi)olytus,  the  genuineness  of  which  we  have 
esiab'ishcd  by  discussing  all  hypotheses  to  the  contrary.  The  literature  of 
th-'  su!)ject  will  be  found  in  Note  C.  p.  672,  "Early  Years  of  Christi- 
anity,"  vol.  ii.  "Martyrs  and  Apologists."  We  quote  from  the  excellent 
edition,  with  commentary,  of  Duuker  and  Schneidewin,  Gottingen,  1859. 


126  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

man,  though  banished  to  the  country  by  Victor,  there 
to  bury  in  obHvion  a  dishonourable  past,  had  suc- 
ceeded by  his  artifices  in  gaining  the  good  will  of  the 
new  bishop.  He  had  won  him  over  to  his  own  peculiar 
views,  and  was  actually  governing  under  his  name.* 
Callisthus  was  the  maire  du  palais  of  this  faineant  king. 
We  do  not  deny  that  the  biographer  of  Callisthus  may 
have  deepened  the  colouring  in  narrating  the  story  of 
the  youth  of  the  former  slave,  who  had  become,  in  his 
eyes,  the  corrupter  of  the  Church.  Nevertheless,  Hip- 
polytus  cannot  be  accused  of  calumny.  The  two  parts 
of  the  life  of  Callisthus  harmonise  perfectly.  We  know 
that  he  began  by  showing  himself  an  unfaithful  steward 
to  his  master  Carpophorus,  who  kept  a  sort  of  bank, 
and  that  in  order  to  escape  from  the  recriminations  of 
the  unhappy  people  whom  he  had  defrauded,  he  re- 
paired to  the  synagogue  on  the  Sabbath  day,  to  make 
a  loud  profession  of  Christianity.  He  thus  succeeded 
in  getting  himself  exiled  to  Sardinia  as  a  confessor, 
instead  of  being  sent  to  the  mines  as  a  rogue.  By  dint 
of  importunity  he  contrived  to  secure  for  himself  a 
place  in  the  amnesty  which  Marcia,  the  mistress  of 
Commodus,  who  was  well  disposed  towards  the  new 
religion,  obtained  for  a  certain  number  of  Christian 
exiles.  Bishop  Victor  was  not  to  be  deceived,  and  he 
banished  the  pretended  martyr  from  Rome.  These 
shameful  antecedents  must  have  been  somewhat  obli- 
terated before  Zephyrinus  would  have  dared  to  have 
Callisthus  about  him,  and  to  give  him  a  post  of  honour 

*  Tbv  Zecpvplvov,  dvcpa  iciWTtjv  Kal  aypd/jfiarov  Kai  aTretpov  tujv  tKKXtjai- 
aariKwv  opu)v.  .  .  i']yiv  itg  o  t€ov\tro,  ovra  diopoXt'jTrrrjv  Kai  <pi\apyvpov. 
*'Phil."ix.  II. 


THE    CRISIS    IN    ROME.  127 

and  trust  in  the  great  Church  of  which  he  was  the 
nominal  head.  Having-  once  attained  this  important 
position,  CalHsthus  had  but  one  end  in  view — to  become 
bishop  himself,  and  to  aggrandise  for  his  own  advan- 
tage the  episcopal  power.  Hence  his  flatteries  of  all. 
those  who  might  aid  him  in  his  design,  and  his  advances 
to  heretics  who  were  half  Pantheists,  like  Cleomenes, 
Noetus,  or  Sabellius.*^  If  we  seek  an  explanation  of 
the  favour  he  showed  them,  we  shall  soon  discover  that 
it  is  to  be  found  not  so  much  in  the  boldness  of  their 
speculations  as  in  their  declared  hostility  to  Montan- 
ism,  which  they  opposed  on  much  the  same  grounds 
as  Praxeas.  Now  Montanism  was  the  inveterate  enemy 
of  the  hierarchy,  the  Mordecai  covered  with  ashes,  pro- 
testing on  the  very  threshold  of  the  Church  against  the 
usurpations  of  the  episcopate ;  the  solemn  preacher  oi 
repentance,  demanding  holiness  as  the  one  basis  of  the 
liberty  of  the  people  of  God.  Vainly  it  had  been  con- 
demned ;  the  blow  aimed  at  it  was  very  recent ;  the 
sympathies  of  austere  Christians  were  with  it  still. 
Callisthus  sought  everywhere  allies  against  the  Mon- 
tanist  tendency,  with  the  one  design  of  establishing 
in  opposition  to  it  the  episcopal  sovereignty.  We  find 
him,  in  fact,  at  this  period  urging  on  Zephyrinus  to 
issue  a  decree  which  conferred  on  the  bishops  the  right 
of  remitting  sins  in  virtue  of  their  office. 

Tertullian  arrived  in  Rome  on  the  eve  of  the  pro- 
mulgation of  this  decree,  when  it  formed  the  subject  of 
discussion  on   every  hand.     St.  Jerome  states  that  he 

*  See  the  full  details  of  this  narrative,  with  the  quotations,  in  "  Early 
Years  of  Christianity,"  ii.  320-395 ;  also  iii.  "  Heresy  and  Christian  Doc- 
trine," 142-148. 


128  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

entered  into  a  violent  controversy  with  the  elders  of 
the  Church  of  Rome.*  It  is  certain  that  the  wily 
Callisthus  was  at  the  head  of  the  hierarchical  party  ; 
it  was  then  with  him  that  Tertullian  had  to  contend 
in  the  foremost  rank.  We  can  well  conceive  what 
would  be  his  line  of  argument.  It  bore  at  once  upon 
the  question  of  doctrine  and  of  discipline.  Finding  the 
ideas  of  Praxeas,  which  he  had  thought  finally  con- 
demned, current  in  high  places,  and  assuming  new  and 
more  daring  forms,  he  opposed  to  them  his  theology, 
already  deeply  tinged  with  Montanism.  We  know  that 
he  carried  the  distinction  of  persons  in  the  Godhead  so 
far  as  to  assert  the  absolute  subordination  of  the  Son 
to  the  Father.  Upon  the  question  of  discipline,  he 
directed  his  vehement  eloquence  against  the  usurpation 
meditated  by  the  Church  of  Rome  for  the  benefit  of 
the  episcopate.  His  treatise,  "  De  Pudicitia,"  written 
at  a  later  date,  recalls  the  powerful  arguments  used 
by  him  at  this  time  to  frustrate  so  audacious  an 
attempt. 

We  must  note  the  presence  of  two  distinct  elements 
in  Tertullian's  polemics.  He  is  right  in  opposing  the 
new  pretensions  of  the  episcopate  to  a  monopoly  of  the 
power  of  the  keys,  but  to  this  innovation  he  opposes 
another,  which  is  an  exaggeration  in  the  opposite 
direction  :  he  absolutely  refuses  to  sanction  a  second 
public  repentance  after  baptism,  especially  in  cases  of 
incontinence.  He  adopts  fully  and  without  modification 
on  this  point,  the  implacable  discipline  of  Montanism, 
and  he  thus   weakens  his   righteous   resistance  to  the 

*  "  Hie  cum  usque  ad  mediam  oetatem  presbyter  ecclesire  permansisset, 
invidia  postea  et  contumeliis  clericorum  Romanas  ecclesiae,  ad  Montani 
dogma  delapsus."     Hyeron.  "  De  viris  illustribus,"  53. 


THE    CRISIS    IN    ROME.  I29 

encroachments  of  the  hierarchical  party.  TertulHan 
overwhelmed  his  opponents  with  a  torrent  of  impetuous 
eloquence,  which  bore  along  many  a  sophism  in  its 
turbid  waters.  He  carried  to  an  extreme  length  the 
distinction  between  venial  and  mortal  sins,  recognising 
no  restoration  on  this  side  the  grave  for  sinners  of  the 
latter  class.*  The  Church  until  now  had  refused  resto- 
ration to  apostates  and  murderers.  Tertullian  sought 
to  establish  that  adultery  deserved  no  greater  indul- 
gence. He  drew  a  fearful  picture  of  it,  as  occupying 
the  middle  place  between  idolatry  and  murder.  Idolatry 
prepares  the  way  for  it,  in  its  impure  sanctuaries  and 
under  the  shade  of  groves  where  it  intoxicates  the  soul 
with  its  draughts  of  debasing  pleasures.  Murder 
marches  after  it,  for  blood  always  follows  close  upon 
lust,  sometimes  to  punish  it,  sometimes  to  obliterate 
its  traces.  What  hatred  does  not  incontinence  kindle, 
and  to  what  crimes  does  it  not  resort  to  hide  its  shame  ? 
Infanticide  and  abortion  are  its  most  frequent  conse- 
quences.t  Why  should  apostacy  be  so  much  more 
severely  visited  ^  Is  it  more  culpable  to  deny  the  faith 
at  the  stake  or  in  the  circus,  in  face  of  terrible  tortures, 
than  to  repudiate  it  in  act,  at  the  behest  of  siren  plea- 
sures ?  X  Tertullian  sets  aside  all  the  parables  of  mercy 
which  might  be  adduced  as  arguments  against  his  view, 
such  as  those  of  the  Lost  Sheep,  the  Lost  Piece  of  Money, 
the  Prodigal  Son.  He  wrests  Scripture,  to  extract  from 
it  the  bitterness  of  an  unsparing  severity.  The  most 
positive  texts  carry  no  weight  with  him ;  §  he  disputes 
the  restoration  of  the  incestuous  at  Corinth,  notwith- 
standing the   evidence.  II      He    appeals    from    the    one 

*  Tertullian,  "  De  Hidicitia,"  2  t  Ibid.  5. 

I  Ibid.  22.  §  Ibia.  7-10.  \\  Ibid.  13. 

10 


130  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

passag-e  to  the  general  tone  of  the  First  Epistle  to  the 
Corinthians,  "  written  not  with  ink,  but  with  gall,  and 
glowing  throughout  with  the  fire  of  an  avenging 
wrath/'*  He  well-nigh  makes  St. John  and  St.  Paul 
pitiless  sectaries,  Montanists  without  bowels  of  com- 
passion. If  he  spoke  in  this  tone  at  Rome  —  and  he 
would  not  be  likely  to  moderate  his  language  in  the 
excitement  of  the  contest  —  he  must  have  singularly 
injured  his  own  cause,  and  provoked  a  reaction  not 
only  against  its  errors,  but  against  the  aspect  of  truth 
he  was  defending.  And  yet  this  was  a  very  important 
one,  and,  presented  with  more  moderation,  it  might  have 
delayed  the  triumph  of  the  hierarchical  party. 

Tertullian  vehemently  opposes  the  attempt  of  the 
clergy  to  seize  the  power  of  the  keys.  If  he  will  not 
recognise  a  second  repentance,  he  at  least  makes  a 
difference  between  the  ancient  practice  of  the  Church 
and  the  innovation  now  proposed.  Up  to  this  time, 
the  penitent  had  been  accustomed  to  give  expression 
to  his  feelings  before  the  entire  Church,  and  in  its 
presence  to  shed  the  penitential  tear.  It  was  to  the 
Church  that  his  public  confession  was  made,  and  the 
entire  Church  at  once  witnessed  his  sorrow  and  gave 
the  sanction  for  his  restoration.  All  this  is  changed  if 
the  absolution  is  to  be  pronounced  by  one  man,  under 
pretext  that  he  holds  an  ecclesiastical  office.  Tertul- 
lian absolutely  repudiates  this  claim.  ''  God  alone,"  he 
says,  "  can  pardon  sins,  and  He  may  pardon  even  the 
mortal  sins  which  have  been  committed  against  Him."t 

*  "  Animadvertamus  totam  epistolam  primam,  ut  ita  dixerim,  non 
atramento  sed  felle  conscriptam,  tumentem,  indignantem,  invidiosam." 
Tertullian,  "  De  Pudicitia,"  14. 

t  "  Quis  dimiltit  delicta,  ni  solus  Deus,  et  utique  mortalia  quae  in  ipsum 
fuerint  admiisa  ?  "     Ibid.  21. 


THE    CRISIS    IN    ROME.  I3I 

Where  there  is  direct  revelation  and  supernatural  mani- 
festation of  His  will,  we  may  admit  the  possibility  of  this 
pardon  even  for  sins  for  which  there  is  no  remission  upon 
earth.  This  right  belonged  to  the  apostles,  because  the 
whole  of  their  mission  was  miraculous.  Where  are  the 
dead  whom  the  bishops  of  this  age  have  raised  ?  Where 
are  the  wonders  wrought  by  them  ?  We  may  believe 
the  same  right  of  absolving  to  have  been  possessed  by 
the  holy  prophets,  whose  lips  the  Spirit  had  touched 
with  His  live  coal  from  the  altar.  When  the  Spirit 
speaks  directly  in  the  Holy  Church  by  a  supernatural 
inspiration,  all  ordinary  rules  give  way.*  But  how  can 
miraculous  restoration  affect  the  general  order  of  the 
Church  ?  Any  conclusion  derived  from  it  can  apply  only 
in  cases  where  there  is  clear  evidence  of  miraculous 
power  or  of  the  prophetic  spirit. 

Tertullian  treats  with  much  vigour  the  argument 
which  seems  already  to  have  been  derived  at  Rome  from 
the  words  of  Jesus  Christ  to  Peter— "Upon  this  rock  I 
will  build  my  church,  and  I  give  unto  thee  the  keys  of 
the  kingdom  of  heaven."  He  maintains  that  this  de- 
claration,  refers  exclusively  to  Peter  himself,  and  does 
not  confer  on  him  any  power  which  could  be  transmis- 
sible. The  great  apostle  who  had  brought  into  the 
kingdom  of  God  the  three  thousand  Jews  assembled 
on  the  day  of  Pentecost,  had  in  truth  opened  to  them 
the  gate  of  heaven.  When  he  pronounced  swift  judg- 
ment upon  xA.nanias  and  Sapphira,  he  used  his  awful 
power  to  bind,  as  he  used  his  power  to  loose,  when 
he  exempted  the  proselytes  of  the  Gentiles  from  sub- 
jection to  all  the  rites  of  the  synagogue.     But  these 

*  Tertullian,  "  De  Pudicitia,"  21. 
.10* 


133  THE   EARLY    CHRISTIAN   CHURCH. 

prerogatives  were  his  by  a  special  and  incommunicable 
gift  of  God.*  Moreover,  where,  we  ask,  do  we  find 
adulterers  restored  by  him?  In  a  word,  the  Church, 
as  ordinarily  constituted,  possesses  none  of  those  great 
prerogatives  which  are  based  alone  upon  miracles  or  in- 
spiration. "  Show  me,"  says  Tertullian,  to  the  bishop 
of  his  day,"  "  show  me  the  signs  by  which  I  may  know 
thee  as  an  apostle  or  prophet,  and  then  I  will  recognise 
in  thee  the  organ  of  the  Godhead,  and  thou  mayest 
claim  the  right  to  remit  even  mortal  sins.  But  if  to 
thee  is  committed  only  the  care  of  the  discipline  of  the 
Church,  if  thou  art  called  not  to  rule  but  to  serve,  who 
art  thou,  to  grant  such  indulgence  ?  Being  neither  pro- 
phet nor  apostle,  thou  lackest  the  virtue  which  would 
render  thee  capable  of  granting  such  pardons." t  Ter- 
tullian protests  against  the  facile  morality  which  would 
result  from  the  relaxation  of  discipline.  Using  a  lively 
figure,  he  compares  the  casuist  who  seeks  an  impossible 
equilibrium  between  the  flesh  and  the  spirit,  to  a  dancer 
who  trys  to  walk  between  two  abysses  upon  a  tight  rope. 
Such  a  moralist  is,  to  use  his  bold  expression,  "  the 
rope-dancer  of  modesty  and  chastity."!  Tertullian 
sums  up  his  arguments  in  these  words,  which  strike 
at  the  heart  of  the  pretensions  against  which  he  is 
animadverting :  "  To  pardon  is  the  right  of  the  Lord 
and  Master,  not  of  the  servant ;  the  right  of  God,  and 
not  of  the  priest."  § 

We  can  understand  what  a  storm  of  passion  and 
anger  would  be  aroused   by  words   like   these,  falling 

*  "Domini  intentionem  hoc  personaliter  Petro  conferentem. "  Tertul- 
lian, "De  Pudicitia,"  21.  t  Ibid.  21. 

I  "Age,  tu  funambule  pudiciti^e  et  castitatis."    Ibid.  10. 

§  "Domini  enim,  non  famuli  est  jus  et  arbitrium;  Dei  ipsius,  non 
sacerdotis."     Ibid.  21, 


THE    CRISIS    IN    ROME.  I33 

like  a  thunderclap  in  an  atmosphere  already  heavily 
charged  with  conflicting  elements.  The  rigid  school 
of  moralists  were  as  much  elated  on  their  side,  as 
many  Christian  souls  were  wounded  by  this  pitiless 
doctrine  and  discipline,  which  would  obliterate  some 
of  the  most  touching  pages  of  the  gospel,  and  put 
into  the  hands  of  the  Good  Shepherd  a  rod  of  iron, 
instead  of  the  crook  which  gathers  in  the  wanderers, 
Tertullian  thus  unwittingly  strengthened  the  hands  of 
his  opponents.  It  was  after  his  departure  from  Rome, 
when  he  had  shaken  off  the  dust  from  his  feet  upon  the 
great  Church,  which  he  regarded  as  fallen  from  the 
faith,  that  Zephyrinus  sanctioned  by  a  formal  decree 
the  right  of  the  bishop  to  pardon,  by  virtue  of  his 
priestly  authority,  sins  declared  mortal,  such  as  adul- 
tery and  incontinence.  Tertullian  calls  him  with  bitter 
irony  the  bishop  of  bishops,  little  dreaming  that  this 
appellation  will  shortly  be  a  reality,  and  crown  a  long 
series  of  usurpations."*  With  impassioned  eloquence 
he  asks  him  where  he  will  place  this  too  famous 
decree.  "  Shall  it  be  over  the  doorway  of  places  of 
infamy,  beneath  their  vile  advertisements  ?  A  repent- 
ance so  contemptible  should  be  proclaimed  in  the  very 
places  where  vice  renders  it  necessary.  The  assurance 
of  pardon  should  be  there,  to  be  read  by  those  who  enter 
in  the  hope  of  obtaining  it.  But  no  !  it  is  to  the  door 
of  the  Church  that  a  promise  like  this  is  affixed,  and 
they  say  that  the  Church  is  a  virgin !  Far,  far  from 
thee,  spouse  of  Christ,  be  so  shameless  a  proclamation  !"t 

*  "  Maximus  episcopus  episcoporum  edicit.  Ego  et  mechise  et  fornica- 
tionis  delicta  poeuitentia  functis  dimitto."     Tertullian,  "  De  Pudicitia,"  i. 

t  "  Et  ubi  ])roponelur  libeialitas  ista.  Ibidem,  opinor,  in  ipsis  libidinum 
januis.     Sed  hoc  in  ecclesia  legitur  et  virgo  est !  "     Ibid,  i. 


134  'THE    EARLY   CHRISTIAN   CHURCH. 

It  does  not  seem  that  the  hierarchical  party  was 
satisfied  even  with  its  triumph  under  Zephyrinus,  for 
under  his  successor,  who  faithfully  carried  out  his  policy, 
the  decree,  so  violently  incriminated  by  Tertullian,  was 
promulgated  a  second  time,  or  at  least  confirmed.  The 
hierarchical  party  felt  this  step  to  be  necessary  when  it 
found  itself  confronted  with  a  new  opposition,  all  the 
more  formidable  that  it  was  temperate,  and  could  not 
be  accused  of  schism. 

Let  us  trace  the  circumstances  which  led  to  this 
second  conflict.  Callisthus  had  attained  his  ends  at 
the  death  of  Zephyrinus.  By  dint  of  craft,  flattery,  and 
cunning  artifice,  he  had  gathered  a  sufficient  number 
of  adherents  to  secure  his  election  to  the  bishopric 
(211-223).  That  one  formerly  a  slave  should  be  able 
to  attain  to  this  high  dignity,  appears  to  us  admirable, 
and  in  beautiful  accordance  with  that  perfect  equality, 
from  a  religious  point  of  view,  of  all  men  in  Christ, 
which  St.  Paul  proclaimed  when  he  said,  ^'  In  him 
there  is  neither  bond  nor  free."  Unhappily,  this  slave 
had  brought  with  him  into  the  Church  the  spirit  of 
intrigue  of  the  freedmen  of  the  Roman  nobility.  After 
a  dishonourable  youth,  the  memory  of  which  was  no 
doubt  effaced,  we  have  seen  him  flattering  the  heretics 
from  the  East  until  they  were  unmasked,  and  seeking 
among  these  men,  whose  peculiar  tenets  made  Mon- 
tanism  very  obnoxious  to  them,  a  rallying  point  from 
which  to  attack  those  stern  opponents  of  the  hierarchy. 
Having  gained  the  bishopric,  Callisthus  cast  off  his 
inconvenient  allies,  and  excommunicated  Sabellius,  his 
former  friend.  He  was  more  or  less  compelled  to  this 
act   in   spite   of    the  caresses    he  had   lavished   upon 


THE    CRISIS    IN    ROME.  I35 

Sabellius,  by  the  energetic  attitude  taken  by  one  of  the 
elders  of  the  Church  of  Rome,  who  was  no  other  than 
Hippolytus,  subsequently  bishop  of  Ostia.  This  was 
an  adversary  not  to  be  despised.  His  reputation  was 
great.  He  belonged  to  the  race  of  the  illustrious 
apologists  of  Alexandria,  and  was  versed  in  all  science 
and  philosophy.  The  conclusion  of  his  book  on  here- 
sies is  written  in  a  style  of  simple  and  grand  oratory, 
which  proves  him  to  have  had  the  gift  of  eloquent 
speech.  He  belonged  to  the  austere  party,  without 
falling  into  the  exaggerations  of  Montanism,  which  he 
had  opposed  in  common  with  Caius,  another  doctor  of 
this  same  Roman  Church,  who  had  specially  set  him- 
self to  discredit  the  visions  of  the  pretended  prophets. 
Hippolytus  undoubtedly  fell  into  exaggeration  on  the 
subject  of  Christian  asceticism  :  *  he  was  opposed  to 
the  marriage  of  the  clergy  after  entering  on  their  office. 
He  did  not,  however,  agree  with  the  severity  of  the 
followers  of  Montanus  in  refusing  to  sinners  the  pos- 
sibility of  restoration.  For  a  long  time  he  had  resisted 
Zephyrinus  and  Callisthus,  more  than  once  compelling 
the  latter  to  draw  back.  It  was  by  his  keen  polemics 
against  those  subtle  supporters  of  the  hierarchy  with 
whom  Callisthus  had  made  an  alliance,  that  the  new 
bishop  was  constrained  to  return,  at  least  in  appear- 
ance, to  orthodoxy.  The  battle  was  to  be  renewed 
with  added  vehemence  on  the  domain  of  Church 
government.      Callisthus  was    obliged    to    spare  those 

*  Dollinger,  who  admits  the  genuineness  of  the  "  Philosophoumena," 
has  attempted  to  represent  Hippolytus  as  a  Novatian  by  anticipation,  a  pure 
schismatic,  who  was  banished  to  Ostia  to  put  an  end  to  the  violent  agitations 
he  aroused.  But  these  are  simply  mistaken  attempts  to  justify  CalUsthus. 
bee  "  Hippolytus  and  Callisthus,"  by  Dolhnger.    Regensburg,  1853. 


136  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

who  had  raised  him  to  power.  The  more  unfit  he 
was  for  his  high  position,  the  more  dependent  was 
he  on  those  by  whom  it  had  been  secured  for  him. 
He  was  bound  to  repay  their  service  to  him  by  com- 
pliances of  every  kind.  He  appears  to  have  shown 
especial  consideration  for  two  classes  of  persons — the 
members  of  his  clergy  and  distinguished  ladies.  The 
latter  often  contracted  irregular  unions  with  men  of  the 
lower  class,  or  even  with  slaves.  Callisthus  closed  his 
eyes  to  these  grave  irregularities,  as  to  many  others.* 
Taking  his  stand  upon  the  decree  of  Zephyrinus,  he 
declared  that  he  had  the  necessary  authority  for  par- 
doning all  manner  of  sins.t  Thus  the  usurpation  of 
his  predecessor  was  confirmed.  It  augmented  the 
episcopal  authority  on  two  important  points  :  first,  the 
right  of  pardoning  sins  was  henceforth  devolved  on  the 
bishop  personally ;  next,  this  right  was  under  no  limit- 
ations, as  heretofore,  and  extended  to  all  manner  of 
sins.  The  new  priesthood  established  upon  these  bases, 
was  a  far  more  privileged  order  than  the  old,  which  had 
been  content  with  offering  expiatory  sacrifices  without 
making  any  claim  to  be  itself  the  guardian  and  dis- 
penser of  the  pardons  of  God. 

Callisthus  further  strengthened  the  hands  of  the 
priesthood  in  another  way.  Compelled  to  show  indul- 
gence towards  his  clergy,  he  waived  all  the  rules  which 

*  *'P]iil."ix.  12,  p.  461.^ 

t  IlpioTog  rd  Trpbg  rag  t'jcovdg  rolg  ai'QptJTroig  avyx^P^^'^  tirevoyjrrE,  Xsyiov 
Trdmv  vir'  avrov  afiEaOai  di^iapriag.  Ibid.  ix.  12,  p.  458.  Hippolytus 
seems  to  attribute  to  Callisthus  the  first  uttering  of  this  decree,  but  Ter- 
tuUian  speaks  of  a  similar  decree,  passed  at  the  time  of  his  visit  to  Rome, 
while  Zephyrimis  was  bishop.  It  is  possible  that  Callisthus  may  have  given 
wider  extension  to  the  earlier  decree,  of  which,  moreover,  he  was  viitually 
the  author. 


THE    CRISIS    IN    ROME.  I37 

had  till  then  heen  imposed  on  candidates  for  the  eccle- 
siastical office.  Second,  and  even  third  marriages  no 
longer  formed  any  obstacle  to  consecration.*  His 
decree  making  the  office  of  bishop  irrevocable  is  of  far 
graver  moment.  It  contained  the  principle  that  a 
bishop  should  not  be  deposed,  even  if  he  had  com- 
mitted a  mortal  sin.t  Callisthus  in  this  way  dissevered 
the  office  from  all  dependence  on  m.oral  qualities ; 
holiness  sank  into  insignificance  in  comparison  with 
canonical  appointment.  While  Montanism,  on  the  one 
hand,  reduced  official  position  to  the  lowest  possible 
value,  Callisthus,  on  the  other  hand,  made  it  the  one 
essential.  He  was  logically  right  as  an  advocate  of 
the  hierarchical  principle  ;  for  when  it  is  once  admitted 
that  spiritual  competency  is  of  more  importance  than 
any  dignity  conferred  by  place,  the  door  is  at  once 
opened  for  the  restoration  of  the  universal  priesthood, 
on  a  basis  of  common  holiness  of  life,  since  holiness  is 
not  the  monopoly  of  any  one  class  of  Christians,  nor  is 
it  conferred  by  any  mode  of  official  consecration. 

Callisthus  was  not  content  with  passing  these  nox- 
ious measures ;  he  vindicated  them  in  theory.  The 
true  founder  of  Churches  whose  doors  stand  open  to 
receive  unconverted  multitudes,  he  appealed  to  the 
parable  of  the  Tares  and  the  Wheat,  as  teaching  that 
all  severe  discipline  is  adjourned  to  the  day  of  final 
judgment.  He  is  the  inventor  of  the  famous  compa- 
rison of  the  Church  to  Noah's  ark,  into  which  entered 
alike   the  clean   and   unclean  beasts. J     He  drew  the 

*  "Phil." ix.  12,  p.  459. 

t  OvTog  uoyi^aTKyev  ottcjq  tl  tTriaicoirog  afidpTOi  ti,  d  Kal  Trpug  ddvarov, 
fit)  deXv  KarariBiaOai.      Ibid.  ix.  12. 

I  Tijv  Ki€u)Tdi'  Toi)  NcSf  £/(•  uj-touo/^ia  tKK\r}(7iag  t<pri  ytyov'tvai.    Ibid.  ix.  12. 


I3S  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

conclusion  that  the  most  important  question  concern- 
ing this  great  vessel  the  Church,  which  carried  so 
mixed  a  company  on  board,  was.  Who  was  the  pilot  ? 
Ecclesiastical  authority  gained  by  all  that  was  lost  of 
individual  holiness.  It  was  in  this  w^ay  that  this  crafty 
intriguer,  this  magician,  as  Hippolytus  calls  him, 
effected  one  of  the  greatest  revolutions  in  the  Christian 
community.  The  power  of  the  keys,  after  having  been 
grasped  by  feeble  or  withered  hands,  was  to  pass  to 
heroic  bishops  like  Stephen,  and  to  be  purified  by  the 
blood  of  the  martyrs  in  the  second  half  of  the  third 
centuiy.  It  is  possible  that  Callisthus  himself  may 
have  had  the  signal  honour  of  perishing  as  a  confessor. 
He  certainly  did  not  deserve  it,  although  we  can  ima- 
gine that  the  glorious  martyr-fires  may  have  had  a 
purifying  eftect  even  upon  him.  If  this  was  so,  we  can 
understand  how  the  latest  memory-  of  his  life  may  have 
so  long  sufficed  to  cover  all  the  rest. 

The  triumph  of  the  hierarchical  party  at  this  period 
is  attested  in  the  most  impersonal  document  that  can 
well  be  imagined.  The  pontifical  book,  which  records, 
with  the  names  of  the  bishops,  the  various  changes  of 
ritual,  states  that  in  the  time  of  Zephyrinus  and 
Callisthus,  the  Christian  people  had  no  longer  the  right 
to  lay  the  oblation  of  bread  and  wine  upon  the  Eucha- 
ristic  table,  but  were  bound  to  pass  them  through  the 
hands  of  the  deacons  and  elders.  The  very  worship 
thus  bore  the  impress  of  the  revolution  wrought  in 
favour  of  episcopal  and  sacerdotal  views. 

Hippolytus  does  not  tell  us  what  was  the  eftect  of 
his  opposition  upon  the  Church  of  Rome.  We  know 
that  that  opposition  was  not  lacking  in  vigour  or  vehe- 


THE    CRISIS    IN    ROME. 


139 


mence,  for  he  does  not  hesitate  even  to  use  invective. 
That  which  is  certain  is,  that  in  spite  of  his  high  intel- 
lectual superiority,  he  was  vanquished,  as  the  Montan- 
ists  had  been,  and  probably  partly  by  reason  of  the 
very  exaggeration  to  which  we  have  alluded.  The 
episcopate  was  established  in  Rome  in  the  year  236, 
with  a  priestly  and  irrevocable  character.  It  assumed 
the  rule  over  a  Church  which  bowed  willingly  under  a 
lenient  hand,  and  consented  to  raise  high  the  episcopal 
chair,  on  condition  that  discipline  was  proportionately 
lowered.  Happily,  persecution  was  about  again  to  pass 
through  its  crucible  this  corrupted  Christianity,  and  to 
add  great  and  glorious  pages  to  the  history  of  the  Church 
of  Rome. 


140  THE   EARLY  CHRISTIAN  CHURCH, 


CHAPTER  VII. 

THE    ECCLESIASTICAL   CRISIS   IN  THE  TIME   OF  CYPRIAN. 

248-264.* 

The  great  advantages  gained  in  Rome  by  the  hier- 
archical party  were  confirmed  and  augmented  at 
Carthage  in  the  following  period  by  the  wide  influence 
of  one  of  the  greatest  bishops  the  Church  ever  pos- 
sessed. In  fact,  they  may  be  said  never  to  have 
received  their  true  sanction  till  the  policy  of  intrigue 
by  which  they  had  been  won  had  been  su'cceeded  by  a 
governing  power  actuated  by  higher  aims.  Between 
Callisthus  and  Cyprian  the  difference  was  vast.  The 
bishop  of  Carthage  purified  by  the  fire  of  his  zeal  a 
power  obtained  by  well-nigh  criminal  procedures ;  but 
while  he  purified,  he  was  no  less  anxious  to  preserve, 
and  even  to  augment  it,  under  a  sincere  conviction  of 
right,  and  in  pursuit  of  a  noble  end.  One  of  the 
secrets  of  his  success  was  that  he  knew  when  to  pause, 
and  would  not  go  beyond  the  spirit  of  his  age  in  the 
attempt  at  excessive  centralisation,  which  the  Church 
of  Rome  was  ever  eager  to  urge. 

*  Neander  has  given  an  excellent  account  of  the  ecclesiastical  crisis  in 
Carthage.  '*  Allgemeine  Geschichte  der  Christlich.  Religion,"  vol.  i.  3rd 
edit.  See  also  Ritschl's  work  already  quoted,  pp.  555~574'  The  chief 
authority  is  the  collection  of  letters  by  St.  Cyprian,  Avho  governed  his 
Church  from  his  place  of  retreat  during  the  persecution. 


THE    CRISIS    IN    THE    TIME    OF    CYPRIAN.  I4I 

After  the  death  of  Hippolytus,  the  contest  between 
the  two  parties  who  had  divided  the  Church  passed 
from  Rome  to  Carthage,  presently  to  return  again  to 
Rome,  and  finally  reach  its  climax  there  in  the  esta- 
blishment of  the  episcopal  power  under  highly  favouring 
circumstances.  The  severe  and  antihierarchical  party 
showed  itself  far  less  schismatic  at  first  in  proconsular 
Africa  than  in  Italy.  Thus  it  aroused  a  more  moderate 
opposition,  and  was  able  to  hold  its  ground  for  some 
time,  even  among  a  portion  of  the  clergy.  Felicitas 
and  Perpetua,  who  were  among  the  most  glorious 
heroines  of  the  persecution,  evidently  belonged  to  this 
school,  as  is  shown  by  the  vision  approvingly  recorded 
by  the  unknown  author  of  the  acts  of  their  martyrdom. 
He  places  them  in  the  ranks  of  the  w^omen  honoured 
by  the  inspiration  of  the  Paraclete.  In  one  of  their 
holy  ecstasies.  Bishop  Opatus  and  the  priest  Aspasius 
appear  to  them,  the  one  on  the  right,  the  other  on 
the  left,  of  the  heavenly  gates.  They  bear  on  their 
features  a  look  of  sadness,  because  they  are  divided  in 
opinion.  They  ask  the  martyrs  to  reconcile  them. 
The  subject  of  their  difference  is  made  very  clear  by 
the  words  addressed  to  the  bishop  by  the  confessors  : 
they  reproach  him  with  having  a  flock  which  seems  to 
have  come  from  the  circus  and  its  profane  spectacles. 
As  no  blame  is  cast  upon  Aspasius,  we  may  infer  that 
the  dispute  between  the  bishop  and  the  elder  was  on 
the  subject  of  discipline.  The  austere  school,  no  doubt, 
regarded  the  bishop  as  too  indulgent  to  the  facility 
with  which  the  Christians  of  Carthage  mixed  in  the 
pagan  life  of  the  city.  It  is  clear  that  Felicitas  and 
Perpetua  inclined  to  the  side  of  severity.     It  follows 


142  THE    EARLY  CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

that,  as  early  as  the  year  202,  the  Montanist  party  had 
adherents  among  the  confessors  and  in  the  clergy  of 
the  Church.  Tertullian  belonged  to  that  party  long 
before  his  declared  rupture  with  the  Church  of  Rome, 
for  his  early  writings  have  a  very  decided  tone  of 
asceticism.  We  know  with  what  sharpness  and  vigo- 
rous eloquence  he  defended  Montanism  in  his  later 
treatises.  It  does  not  appear,  however,  that  there  was 
any  marked  line  of  separation  between  the  austere 
party  and  the  Church.  The  treatise,  *'  De  Virgin. 
Velandis,"  contains  an  indistinct  allusion  to  the  be- 
ginning of  a  rupture,  in  consequence  of  the  sort  of 
constraint  that  was  exercised  over  young  Montanist 
women,  in  compelling  them  to  appear  with  uncovered 
face  in  the  holy  assemblies.*  This  vague  allusion  does 
not,  however,  warrant  us  in  supposing  that  the  separa- 
tion was  absolute.  The  schism  must  in  any  case  have 
been  of  short  duration,  for  on  the  death  of  Tertullian 
all  parties  concurred  in  paying  profound  respect  to  the 
memory  of  one  w^hom  they  justly  regarded  as  the  glory 
of  the  African  Church.  His  ideas  naturally  gained 
increased  currency  through  this  admiration  .for  their 
author — a  feeling  in  which  Cyprian  entirely  concurred. 
We  know,  further,  that  Montanism  had  yet  other  ad- 
herents in  the  Eastern  episcopate. 

It  is  certain  that  the  anti-episcopal  party  did  not 
cease  to  be  represented  among  the  clergy  of  Carthage. 
Judging  from  its  attitude  towards  Cyprian  in  the  per- 
secution under  the  Emperor  Decius,  it  seems  to  have 
laid  aside  for  the  time  its  excessive  severity,  which  it 
had  had  no  occasion  to  exercise  during  the  long  years 

*  Tertullian,  "De  Virgin.  Velandis,"  3. 


THE    CRISIS    IN    THE    TIME    OF    CYPRIAN.  I43 

of  peace  which  the  Church  had  enjoyed.  It  was  more 
concerned  for  the  liberty  of  the  Church  than  for  its  dis- 
cipHne,  and  its  chief  anxiety  was  to  guard,  as  far  as 
possible,  its  ancient  rights  from  the  encroachments  of 
the  episcopate.  We  shall  find  it  subsequently  return- 
ing to  its  traditions  of  extreme  severity,  and  renewing 
the  controversies  of  the  preceding  period.  This  party 
could  not  contend  victoriously  with  such  a  bishop  as 
Cyprian.  He  was  the  ideal  personification  of  the  hier- 
archical party  in  this  phase  of  its  development,  as 
Irenasus  had  been  in  the  second  half  of  the  second 
century.  We  need  not  recur  to  the  circumstances  of 
his  life.  We  know  him  already — the  grand,  strong- 
minded,  upright  Christian  man,  with  a  heart  full  of 
love  for  his  flock,  especially  when  it  is  scattered  and  in 
danger,  and  with  an  iron  will.  In  him  prudence  is 
joined  to  valour,  and  he  regards  his  authority  as  a 
sacred  trust,  which  he  is  as  much  bound  to  defend 
against  the  schismatics  as  he  is  bound  and  ready  to 
defend  his  own  faith  at  the  bar  of  the  proconsular 
tribunal.  He  is  not  moved  by  any  petty  ambition  ;  he 
regards  himself  as  the  sentinel  set  to  guard  a  post  of 
honour  and  peril  that  must  be  kept  for  the  defence 
of  the  most  precious  possession  of  the  Church.  If  he 
speaks  loftily,  it  is  because  he  is  really  raised  to  a 
great  moral  height  by  the  greatness  of  the  danger  and 
the  duty.  It  cannot  be  denied,  however,  that  the 
high  tone  of  this  militant  leader  does  often  verge  on 
arrogance  when  he  throws  himself  into  the  heat  of  the 
conflict.  Strange  to  say,  this  Cyprian,  the  sworn  adver- 
sary of  the  lawless  mysticism  of  the  Montanists,  the  man 
of  systematic  order,  has  also  his  visions  and  hours  of 
ecstasy.     He  appeals  to  these  as  revelations.     It  is  true 


144  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

that  they  are  only  the  consecration  of  his  own  favourite 
notions.  Tlius  he  hears  a  voice  from  heaven  saying  to 
him,  "  He  who  believes  not  on  Christ  when  He  makes  a 
bishop,  will  be  forced  to  believe  on  Him  when  He  will 
avenge  His  priest."*  When,  in  order  to  attest  his  hu- 
mility, Cyprian  invokes  the  universal  testimony  which  is 
rendered  to  him,  he  gives  an  equivocal  proof  of  the  virtue 
itself. t  He  has  provoked,  by  expressions  like  this,  the 
contrast  which  his  adversaries  have  drawn  between  his 
conduct  and  the  example  of  Christ  and  His  apostles. 
It  would,  nevertheless,  be  unjust  to  suppose  that  pride 
of  office  w^as  the  principal  motive  of  the  course  he  pur- 
sued. While  we  see  in  him  that  admixture  of  human 
passions  which  the  holiest  do  not  altogether  escape,  we 
must  bear  in  mind  the  pure  devotedness  of  his  life. 

§  I. — First  Phase  of  the  Conflict  during  the  Persecution 
under  Decius. 
From  his  entrance  on  his  office  Cyprian  encountered 
livel}^  opposition  from  the  clergy  of  Carthage.  It  will 
be  remembered  that  it  was  only  two  years  after  his 
baptism  (248)  that  he  was  raised  to  the  bishopric  by 
a  sort  of  popular  acclamation.  This  rapid  elevation 
was  contested.  It  was  probably  not  so  much  the 
manner  in  which  he  had  been  chosen  as  the  opinions 
he  was  known  to  hold  which  aroused  this  opposition. 
The  divisions  which  we  have  noted  in  the  Church  of 
Carthage,  in  the  time  of  Perpetua  and  Felicitas,  con- 
tinued to  exist  there  as  in  most  of  the  other  Churches. 
It  was  easy  to   find    a    pretext    to  widen   the   breach. 

*  "  Qui  Christo  non  credit  sacerdotem  facienti  postea  credere  incipiet 
sacerdotem  vindicanti."  Cyprian,  "Ep."  66,  lo.  My  quotations  are  made 
from  the  "  Tauchnitz  edition,"  Liepzig,  1838.  t  Ibid.  66,  3. 


THE    PERSECUTION    UNDER    DECIUS.  I45 

Five. elders  or  priests — for  priestly  notions  had  made 
sufficient  progress  by  this  time  for  the  latter  term  to 
be  used  by  preference — protested  against  the  election 
of  Cyprian,  and  raised  a  determined  opposition.*  At 
their  head  was  Novatus.  Cyprian  loads  Novatus  with 
the  gravest  charges.  He  accuses  him  of  having 
allowed  his  father  to  die  of  famine  in  some  obscure 
quarter,  of  having  hastened  the  death  of  his  wife  by 
violence,  and  of  scandalising  the  Church  in  various 
other  ways.t  It  is  difficult  to  know  how  much  there 
is  of  truth  and  how  much  of  malignity  in  this  picture 
of  a  sworn  enemy.  Evidently  these  crimes  of  blood 
were  not  proved  when  Novatus  placed  himself  at  the 
head  of  the  opposition  to  Cyprian,  else  his  mouth  would 
have  been  immediately  closed,  and  his  deposition  would 
have  put  an  end  to  the  contest.  Leaving  this  question 
undecided,  we  may  still  gather  from  the  invectives  of 
Cyprian,  that  Novatus  was  a  man  of  ardent,  impetuous 
temperament,  accustomed  to  oppose  the  bishops,  and 
ill  regarded  by  most  of  them — a  decided  and  vehement 
foe  to  the  episcopal  party.  "  He  was,"  says  Cyprian, 
''  a  torch  kindled  to  light  the  fire  of  sedition,  a  whirl- 
wind, a  tempest,  the  enemy  of  repose  and  of  peace."  X 
Cyprian  does  not  accuse  Novatus  of  any  heresy  ;  the 
quarrel  between  them  was  purely  on  ecclesiastical 
questions. 

It  appears    probable   that  the  five  opposing  priests 

*  "Hoc  quorundam  presbyterorum  malignitas  et  perfidia  peifecit,  dwa 
conjurationis  suce  memores  et  antiqua  ilia  contra  episcopatum  meuiii,  11110 
contra  suffragium  vestrum  venena  retinenles,  instaurant  veterem  contia  ncs 
impugnationem  suam."  Cyprian,  "Ep.  "43,  I.  "  Eadem  rursus- eveisio 
per  quinque  presbyteros. "     Ibid.  3. 

t  Ibid.  52,  2.  Novatus  is  named  in  company  with  three  of  the  opposing 
priests.     Ibid.  14,  4.       +  "  Fax  et  ignis,  turbo  et  tempestas."    Ibid.  32,  2. 

II 


146  ■       THE    EARLY   CHRISTIAN   CHURCH. 

sought  to  turn  to  account  the  somewhat  hasty  election 
of  the  new  bishop,  in  order  to  claim  more  independ- 
ence in  the  parishes,  at  the  head  of  which   they  were 
placed,  under  the  title  of  elders  or  priests.     We  learn 
that   the   point    in  dispute,   in  this    first   stage  of  the 
struggle,  was  the  measure  of  liberty  to   be  enjoyed  by 
the  priests  in  relation   to  their  bishop.     This  appears 
from  an  incident  which  occurred  to  renew  the  opposi- 
tion  when   it   appeared  to  have  been  subdued  by  the 
forbearance   of   Cyprian,   who   had   allowed  the    recal- 
citrants to  continue  in  their  office,  and   had  taken  no 
severe  measures  against  them.     Novatus  raised  to  the 
diaconate  one   of  his  warmest  partisans,  Felicissimus, 
without  informing  his  bishop,  and  consequently  with- 
out his  authorisation.*     This  was  a  bold  assertion  of 
parochial  independence  ;  it  was,  in  fact,  affirming  that 
each  parish,  by  its  internal  organisation,  could  govern 
itself,  and  that  the  priest  was  bishop  in  his  community, 
and  competent  to  decide  on  all  questions  not  affecting 
the    interests    of  the   Church   at    large.     This    was   a 
perfectly  legitimate  view  of  the  ancient  constitution  of 
the  Church,  when  the  equality  of  bishops  and  elders 
was   universally    accepted.     In    such    a    condition    of 
things,   the   elder  who   had    been   entrusted   with   the 
direction   of  a  Church   had    no   occasion   to  seek  the 
authorisation  of  one  of  his  colleagues  for  the  election 
of  a  deacon  ;  they  were  equals,  and  neither  under  the 
sanction  of  the  other.     Novatus,  in  choosing  a  deacon 
on  his  own  responsibility,  reverted  to  the  ancient  right 
of  the  Church,  and  thus  protested  against  the   great 
revolution  which  had  been  wrought. 

*  "  Ipse  est  qui  Felicissimum  satellitum  suum  diaconum,  nee  permitteute 
me  nee  sciente,  constiluit."     Cyprian,  "Ep."  52,2. 


THE    PERSECUTION    UNDER    DECIUS.  147 

Evidently  this  proceeding  was  in  accordance  with 
all  his  previous  conduct,  and  with  that  of  his  four 
colleagues,  who  had  opposed  Cyprian  from  the  time  of 
his  election.  The  bishop  was  indignant  at  this  daring 
independence,  which  militated  against  his  cherished 
notions,  for  he  desired  to  possess  the  respect  of  the 
hierarchy  of  all  grades.  He  did  not,  however,  nullify 
the  election  of  Felicissimus,  because  however  much  he 
might  regret  such  a  nomination,  made  without  his 
concurrence,  he  was  not  in  a  position  to  treat  it  as 
absolutely  culpable  and  irregular.  The  latest  assump- 
tions of  episcopal  authority  had  not  yet  received  official 
sanction ;  the  Church  was  governed  much  more  by 
the  law  of  custom  than  by  written  law. 

The  dissensions  in  the  Church  were  gravely  aggra- 
vated at  the  close  of  the  terrible  persecution  raised  by 
Decius  in  247,  when  the  question  of  discipline  arose. 
The  Church,  more  or  less  enervated  during  a  long 
period  of  calm,  found  herself  suddenly  plunged  into 
fiery  trials.  In  the  innumerable  defections  which  fol- 
lowed, we  see  how  much  the  Church  had  lost  in  living 
piety,  by  the  increase  of  the  hierarchical  element. 
Christians  cannot  be  released  with  impunity  from  any 
part  of  their  personal  responsibility,  and  great  moral 
damage  is  done  when  submission  to  a  priest  is  made 
to  take  precedence  of  holiness  towards  God.  The  few 
Christians  who  continued  faithful  in  view  of  tortures 
and  dungeons,  in  which  a  lingering  death  awaited 
them,  received. the  greater  honour  in  proportion  to  the 
unfaithfulness  of  the  many.  Their  heroism  stood  out 
in  bold  relief  against  the  dark  background  of  cowardice 
and    apostasy.     Those    who    denied    the    faith    often 

II  ''' 


148  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

bitterly  lamented  their  fall ;  they  were  then  a  prey  to 
all  the  terrors  of  conscience,  and  came  with  groans 
and  tears  to  the  door  of  the  Church,  seeking  the 
readmission  which  had  hitherto  been  denied  to  sinners 
of  so  deep  a  dye.  In  fact,  except  in  Rome  during  the 
episcopate  of  Callisthus,  whose  famous  decree  seems 
to  have  promised  restoration  to  all  manner  of  offenders, 
apostasy  had  been  regarded  as  a  crime  inexpiable  on 
this  side  the  grave.  The  Christian  who  had  burned 
incense  to  an  idol  was  left  to  the  mercy  of  God,  but 
he  could  not  take  his  place  again  among  his  brethren, 
and  partake  of  the  holy  mysteries.  Cyprian,  before 
the  persecution  under  Decius,  had  held  on  this  point 
the  same  severe  views  as  the  early  Church,  lie  had 
written,  in  his  treatise  on  "  Testimonies,"  "  The  Church 
cannot  restore  one  who  has  sinned  against  God  Him- 
self."* Now  what  can  be  a  more  direct  offence  against 
the  Divine  Majest}'  than  the  offering  sacrifice  to  false 
gods? 

The  Bishop  of  Carthage  had  too  much  the  heart  of 
a  father  not  to  be  touched  with  a  tender  and  profound 
pity  at  the  sight  of  those  groaning  multitudes  who 
sought  pardon  with  tears.  "  I  suffer,  O  my  brethren," 
he  exclaims.  "  I  suffer  with  you,  and  it  is  not  sufficient 
consolation  for  me  that  I  have  not  also  fallen,  for  what 
does  the  shepherd  feel  so  keenly  as  the  harm  that 
touches  his  Hock  ?  In  my  own  breast  I  feel  the  sorrows 
cf  every  one  of  you ;  I  share  in  the  anguish  of  your 
repentance  ;  I  weep  with  those  who  \yeep  ;  I  feel 
myself    fallen    with    those    who    lie    prostrate.      My 

*  "  Noil  posse  in  ecclesia  remitti  ei  qui  in  Deum  deliqueret."  Cyprian, 
*'  Testim."  iii.  28. 


THE    PERSECUTION    UNDER    DECIUS.  I49 

members  are  wounded  by  the  shafts  of  the  enemy ; 
his  sword  has  entered  into  mine  own  bowels  in  pierc- 
ing theirs.  My  soul  cannot  believe  in  its  own  fidelity 
in  this  persecution.  Love  involves  me  in  the  fall  of 
my  brethren. ^^ 

With  such  feelings,  Cyprian  could  not  adhere  to  his 
former  rigid  views,  but  he  retained  so  much  as  to  pre- 
vent his  being  satisfied  with  an  illusory  repentance. 
He  had  decided,  with  great  wisdom,  that  the  question 
of  the  restoration  of  the  faithless  Christians  should  be 
left  until  peace  had  been  restored  to  the  Church,  in 
order  that  examination  into  the  several  cases  might  be 
made  by  the  bishop,  assisted  by  his  clergy,  and  thus 
hasty  and  injudicious  steps  might  be  avoided. t 

The  opposite  party  could  not  lose  such  an  opportunity 
of  opposing  Cyprian.  Already  it  had  attempted  to  bring 
discredit  upon  his  personal  character,  because  he  had 
evaded,  by  flight,  the  certainty  of  torture.  It  was 
difficult,  however,  to  call  in  question  his  courage.  His 
firmness  was  well  known.  For  him  it  was  the  greater 
sacrifice  not  to  court  martyrdom ;  but  he  felt  that  duty 
commanded  prudence  for  the  sake  of  his  Church,  that 
he  might  conduct  her  safely  through  this  critical  period 
of  her  history.  We  owe  it  to  Cyprian's  retirement  to  a 
place  of  safety,  that  we  possess  that  invaluable  corre- 
spondence which  enables  us  to  follow  closely  all  the 
phases  of  the  great  contest.  He  took  no  pains  to  offer 
any  elaborate  justification  of  himself;  he  affirmed  that 

*  Cyprian,  "  De  lapsis,"  4. 

t  "Ante  est,  ut  pacem  a  Domino  mater  ecclesia  prior  sumat,  tunc  de 
filiorum  pace  tractetur  ! "  Cyprian,  "Ep."  15,  2.  "Cum  persecutione 
finita  convenire  in  unum  cum  glero  et  recpjligi  coeperimus,"  Ibid.  15,  i  ; 
Ibid.  17,  I. 


150  THE    EARLY   CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

he  had  obeyed  the  command  of  Jesus  Christ,  in  fleeing 
before  the  advance  of  persecution.*  The  contest  was 
resumed  with  unabated  vigour  upon  the  difficult  ques- 
tion of  the  restoration  of  those  who  had  denied  the 
faith.  The  antiepiscopal  party,  preferring  popularity 
to  the  extreme  severity  which  was  the  tradition  of  the 
early  Church,  and  to  which  it  was  soon  to  return, 
ranged  itself  against  Cyprian  on  the  side  of  indul- 
gence. It  achieved  a  master  stroke  of  policy  in 
enlisting  the  sympathies  of  the  confessors  who  were 
in  prison,  and  in  persuading  them  to  grant  letters  of 
g  a  :e  to  the  repentant  apostates.  It  is  certain  that 
the  African  martyrs  yielded  on  this  occasion  to  the 
schismatic  influences  which  had  been  long  at  work 
in  the  great  Church  of  Carthage  ;  they  placed  their 
exalted  position  at  the  service  of  the  opposing  party, 
who  flattered  them  in  the  most  artful  and  extravagant 
manner.  Cyprian  broadly  accuses  the  priests  who  had 
opposed  him  at  the  time  of  his  entry  on  office,  of  having 
turned  away  the  confessors  from  submission  to  their 
bishop,  and  having  led  them  to  break  the  rules  of 
discipline. 

This  intervention  of  the  antiepiscopal  party  in  an 
affair  so  delicate  shows  us  the  full  scope  of  the  contest, 
and  sets  it  in  its  true  light.  The  question  is  twofold. 
First,  it  is  simply  one  of  discipline ;  it  must  be  deter- 
mined if  the  certificate  of  a  martyr  can  validly  dispense 
with  all  the  rules  of  penitence.  But  the  question  soon 
opens  to  wider  issues  :  that  which  is  to  be  decided  is, 
where  resides  the  true  and  final  authority  in  the  Church. 
I§  it  always  associated  with  the  episcopate,  or  does  a 

*  Cyprian,  **Ep."20,  i  ;    Ibid.  14,  i. 


THE    PERSECUTION    UNDER    DECIUS.  I51 

pre-eminent  degree  of  holiness  constitute  a  yet  higher 
power  ?  Is  the  official  priesthood  bound  to  recognise 
another,  more  excellent  though  less  regular,  priesthood, 
that  of  martyrdom  or  of  Christian  heroism  ?  If  the 
confessor  occupies  a  higher  position  than  the  bishop, 
then  we  set  aside  the  special,  and  return  to  the  universal 
priesthood;  for  the  confession  of  the  name  of  Christ  in 
the  arena  or  at  the  stake  is  not  the  privilege  of  a  caste, 
an  order,  a  clerical  body.  The  blood-stained  robe  of  the 
martyr  invests  the  humblest  and  most  ignorant  with  the 
same  priestly  and  royal  dignity  as  the  most  illustrious 
bishop.  The  hierarchy  will  receive  a  mortal  wound  if 
this  supremacy  of  the  martyrs  is  ever  recognised  in 
an  ecclesiastical  act.  It  was  then  the  ecclesiastical 
order  which  Cyprian  defended  no  less  than  the  rules  of 
discipline.  He  allowed  no  obscurity  to  remain  on  his 
views.  He  bitterly  reproached  his  adversaries  with 
wishing  to  dispense  with  bishops  and  priests  in  the 
restoration  of  the  guilty,  and  thus  aiming  to  destroy 
all  sacerdotal  authority.* 

It  must  be  admitted  that  resistance  to  the  pretensions 
of  the  martyrs  was  very  difficult,  for  they  inspired  un- 
bounded enthusiasm  :  they  were  the  idol  of  the  Church, 
and  it  was  not  without  danger  that  they  breathed  the 
incense  of  so  much  sincere  adulation.  Cyprian  himself 
helped  to  exalt  them.  Thus,  he  uses  most  extravagant 
language  in  his  letter  to  the  confessors  of  Rome,  whom 
he  endeavoured  to  win  over  to  his  cause.  He  lauds,  in 
unmeasured  terms,  their  longsuffering  in  enduring  hun- 
ger and  thirst,  and  every  description  of  torture ;  in  bearing 
with  equal  fortitude  the  long  winter  cold  and  the  burn- 

*  "  Nee  per  episcopos  et  sacerdotes  Domino  satisfiat — oninis  sacerdotalis 
auctoritas  et  potestas  destruatur. "     Cyprian,  "  Ep."  43,  3. 


152  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

ing  heat  of  summer.  Have  they  not  been  Hke  grapes 
gathered  from  the  Lord's  vintage,  and  crushed  by  perse- 
cution as  in  a  glorious  winepress  ?  Of  what  avail  are  his 
prayers  on  their  behalf  in  comparison  with  those  which 
arise  from  their  dungeons  ?  "  You  restore  to  us  far 
more  than  we  can  give  you,"  he  says,  "  when  you 
remember  us  before  God;  you  who  breathe  no  longer 
any  but  heavenly  air,  who  have  no  thoughts  but  those 
which  are  divine;  you  whose  prolon^-ed  sufferings  raise 
you  continually  higher.  It  is  time,  O  brethren  beloved, 
that  you  should  give  me  a  place  in  your  prayers.  Your 
voices,  ennobled  and  purified  b}'  confession,  and  rendered 
pleasing  to  God  by  your  glorious  perseverance,  reach 
even  to  His  seat.  To  you  who  have  conquered  the 
world,  all  the  heights  of  heaven  are  freely  open.  It 
is  yours  to  obtain  from  the  Divine  mercy  all  that 
you  ask.  Have  you  not,  in  truth,  earned  a  right  t-o 
receive  all  from  that  mercy  —  you  who  have  kept  the 
Commandments,  you  who  are  the  true  witnesses  of 
the  gospel,  the  true  martyrs  of  Christ?"*  Cyprian 
knows  well  that  he  is  addressing  confessors  who  have 
not  tarnished  their  glory  by  rebelling  against  estab- 
lished order;  but  it  is  none  the  less  true  that,  in 
ascribing  to  them  merit  and  an  exceptional  power  with 
God,  he  is  sanctioning  the  boldest  pretensions  of  their 
brethren  at  Carthage.  These  same  confessors,  whom 
he  praises  in  such  extravagant  terms,  allow  themselves 
to  be  exalted  by  their  peculiar  position  in  the  Church, 
even  when  they  do  not  enter  into  conflict  with  its 
regular  authorities.     The  letter  of  the  Roman  martyrs 

*  "Quod   enim   pctitis    de   indulgentia   Domini,    quod    non    impetrare 
mereamini?"     Cyprian,  "Ep."37,  4. 


THE    PERSECUTION    UNDER    DECIUS.  153 

to  Cyprian  betrays  a  dangerous  exaltation  of  mind. 
''  Is  there  any  glory  more  sublime,"  they  write,  "  than 
to  confess  the  name  of  Christ  in  face  of  the  tormentors; 
to  be  associated  in  the  passion  of  the  Redeemer;  and, 
at  last,  to  sit  down  among  the  angels  after  being  for- 
saken cf  men  ?"  * 

This  highly-wrought  condition  of  mind  was  fraught 
with  peril  to  the  less  prudent  among  the  confessors: 
they  came  to  think  of  themselves  as  so  identified  with 
the  sacrifice  of  Christ,  that  they  imagined  they  held  in 
their  hands  the  key  of  pardon.  They  were  besieged 
with  petitions  which  were  really  prayers,  as  though  they 
were  the  sovereign  dispensers  of  Divine  grace.  One 
of  these  petitions  has  come  down  to  us.  It  shows 
what  superstitious  confidence  was  placed  in  the  martyrs. 
A  Christian  of  Carthage  named  Celerinus  had  the  grief 
of  seeing  his  sister  succumb  in  the  persecution.  He 
addresses  himself  with  tears  to  Lucian,  whom  he  regards 
as  the  head  of  the  imprisoned  confessors.  He  implores 
him  to  intercede  with  the  first  of  their  company  who 
shall  be  led  forth  to  death,  that  he  will  remit  to  his 
sister  and  to  two  other  women  the  sin  they  have  com- 
mitted in  yielding  to  the  threats  of  the  persecutors. t 
He  pleads  their  cause  with  generous  ardour  ;  he  pic- 
tures them  going  to  meet  the  confessors  who  have  been 
released  from  captivity,  ministering  to  them,  and  lodg- 
ing them  under  their  own  roof.  Lucian's  reply  shows 
to  what  a  degree  these  Christian  captives  had  allowed 
themselves  to  be  misled  as  to  their  dignity  and  power. 

*  "  Quid  gloriosus  quam  collegam  passionis  cum  Christo  factum  fuisse?" 
Cyprian,  "Ep."  31,  3. 

t  "  Rogo,  Domine,  ut  quicumque  prior  vestrum  coronatus  fuerit,  istis 
sororibus  nostris  tale  peccatum  remittant. "     Ibid.  21,  3. 


154  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

He  writes  to  Celerinus  :  "  When  the  blessed  Paul  was 
yet  in  the  body,  he  called  me,  and  said  :  Lucian,  I  tell 
thee  before  Christ,  that  if  after  my  departure  some  one 
asks  of  thee  the  peace  of  the  Church,  thou  shalt  grant 
it  to  him  in  my  name.  *  According  to  this  command 
we  have  granted  peace  to  all  those  who  have  sought  it." 
Lucian  therefore  declares  himself  ready  to  accede  to 
the  request  made  to  him,  on  condition  that  the  bishop 
shall  be  informed,  and  the  public  repentance  not  neg- 
lected. 

The  confessors,  obeying  the  instigations  of  Cyprian's 
enemies,  signify  to  him  in  a  tone  of  uncompromising 
arrogance  that  they  intend  to  persevere  in  these  errors. 
"  Know,"  they  write  to  him  from  their  prison,  ''  that 
we  have  granted  peace  to  all  those  who  have  satisfied 
thee  of  their  conduct  since  their  denial,  and  we  demand 
that  thou  notify  this  decision  to  the  other  bishops.  We 
desire  that  thou  mayest  have  peace  with  all  the  holy 
martyrs."  f  The  concession  which  seems  to  be  made  in 
this  supercilious  letter  was  really  null.  The  confessors 
restricted  the  right  of  the  bishop  to  an  inquiry  into  the 
conduct  of  the  Christians  since  their  fall,  but  they  re- 
served to  themselves  the  right  of  pardoning  apostasy, 
and  thus  in  all  that  was  essential  the  restoration  of  the 
fallen  was  vested  in  them.  It  would  have  been  im- 
possible to  make  a  more  distinct  claim  to  the  power  of 
the  keys.  This  was  directly  to  attack  the  latest  con- 
quest of  the  episcopate.     Thus  the  contest  revived  the 

*.**  Tibi  dico  ut  si  quis  per  arcessitionem  meam  abs  te  pacem  petierit,  da 
in  nomine  meo."     Cyprian,  "  Ep."  22,  2. 

t  "  Scias  nos  universis,  (Je  quibus  apud  te  ratio  constiterit,  quid  post 
commissum  egerint,  dedisse  pacem,  et  banc  formam  per  te  aliis  episcopis 
innotescere  voluimus.  Optamus  te  cum  Sanctis  martyribus  pacem  habere." 
Ibid.  2X. 


THE    PERSECUTION    UNDER    DECIUS.  I55 

gravest  question  of  ecclesiastical  authority  raised  in  the 
preceding  period,  and  wounded  the  hierarchy  in  its  most 
sensitive  point. 

For  some  time  abuses  went  on  multiplying.  Certifi- 
cates of  restoration  were  granted  by  thousands.  *  They 
were  given  to  entire  families,  with  this  formula  :  "Com- 
munion to  such  an  one  and  his  house."  t  The  priests 
and  deacons  who  were  hostile  to  the  bishop  received  to 
the  Eucharist  with  open  arms  all  who  presented  these 
certificates.  J  The  bearers  indeed  imperiously  de- 
manded readmission,  and  if  they  encountered  any 
opposition,  were  prepared  to  make  good  their  rights  by 
force.  §  Cyprian  showed  great  firmness  in  this  crisis, 
rendered  so  dangerous  for  him  by  the  intervention  of  the 
martyrs.  He  commenced  by  appealing  directly  to  the 
martyrs  themselves,  using  great  caution  in  his  mode  of 
address.  He  sought  to  move  them  by  persuasion, 
while  testifying  at  the  same  time  his  admiration  and 
esteem.  *'  It  is  not  all,"  h:  said,  "to  have  heroically 
defended  the  faith  ;  it  is  needful  also  to  respect  estab- 
lished order,  as  faithful  soldiers,  who  know  how  to  fight 
with  courage,  and  at  the  same  time  to  maintain  dis- 
cipline. We  must  consider  the  salvation  of  those  whom 
it  is  thus  pretended  to  restore,  but  who  are  really  only 
driven  to  certain  perdition  by  a  new  outrage  against 
God.  Such  seeming  kindness  is  in  reality  cruel,  for  it 
turns  to  the  injury  of  the  unhappy  one  whom  it  mis- 
leads. II     Cyprian  protested  with  great  force  against  the 

*  *' Libellorum  millia."     Cyprian,  "Ep."20,  2. 

t  "  Audio  quibusdam  sic  libellos  fieri,  ut  dicatur.  Communicet  ille  cum 
suis."     Ibid.  15,4.  I  Ibid.  15,  i. 

§  **  Ut  pacem  sibi  a  martyribus  promissam  extorquere  violento  impetu 
niterentur."     Ibid.  20,  3.  |1  Ibid.  15,  i,  2. 


156  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

assumption  of  pardoning  sins  in  the  name  of  a  man, 
even  if  he  were  the  most  glorious  of  martyrs.  This  is 
to  lose  sight  of  the  fact  that  it  is  not  the  martyrs  who 
make  the  gospel,  but  the  gospel  which  makes  the 
martyrs,  and  that  there  is  but  one  name  given  for  the 
forgiveness  of  sins — the  name  of  Jesus.* 

After  addressing  the  confessors,  Cyprian  turned  to  his 
own  clergy.  He  reminded  them  at  once  of  the  rules 
of  true  penitence  and  of  the  rights  of  the  episcopate. 
*'  What,"  he  exclaims,  "  for  far  less  grave  offences, 
sinners  observe  the  delays  prescribed  for  repentance. 
They  conform  to  the  rules  of  discipline,  they  make  a 
public  confession,  and  do  not  partake  of  the  holy  com- 
munion till  they  have  received  the  laying  on  of  hands 
from  the  bishop  and  the  priest.  And  now,  in  the  midst 
of  persecution,  apostates  are  received  to  the  Eucharist 
without  the  due  forms  of  penitence,  and  without  the 
laying  on  of  hands  by  the  bishop  and  clergy."  t 

Cyprian  is  not  content  with  appealing  to  his  clergy. 
He  very  skilfully  brings  the  question  before  the  Chris- 
tian people  generally.  He  declares  he  will  do  nothing 
without  their  support  and  sanction.  X  He  avows  his  love 
for  his  flock  :  it  is  because  he  is  full  of  compassion  for 
souls  that  he  will  not  suffer  undue  haste  in  their  re- 
storation, lest  they  provoke  the  deeper  wTath  of  God. 
Is  it  rational  to  launch  upon  the  seas  a  leaky  vessel 
before  it  is  repaired  ?  May  not  those  priests  and  dea- 
cons justly  be  accused  of  unwarrantable  conduct,  who 
forget  alike  the  interests  of  souls  and  the  honour  of 
the  priesthood  and  the  episcopal  chair,   while  they  pro- 

*  Cyprian,  "Ep."  27,  3.  t  Ibid.  16,  2. 

+  "'Nihil  sine  consilio  vestro  et  sine  consensu  plebis  mea  privatim  sen- 
tentia  geiere  statuerim."     Ibid.  14,  4. 


THE    PERSECUTION    UNDER    DECIUS.  I57 

ceed  to  hasty  readmissions  to  the  Church,  contrary  to 
all  rules  ?  *  Thus  the  great  bishop  does  not  hesitate  to 
seek  support,  against  the  extravagant  pretensions  of  the 
confessors,  in  the  popular  assent,  almost  in  the  same 
way  as  royalty  in  the  middle  ages  sought  the  alliance 
of  the  people  against  the  assumptions  of  the  feudal  aris- 
tocracy. Cyprian  seeks  to  reinforce  his  authority,  as  it 
were,  at  its  source,  and  contrives  to  appear  more  jealous 
than  his  opponents  for  the  rights  of  simple  believers. 

Lastly,  not  content  with  addressing  himself  to  the 
martyrs  of  Carthage,  to  his  clergy,  and  to  his  flock,  he 
lays  the  whole  question  before  the  Church  of  Rome, 
not  to  obtain  official  decisions,  of  which  he  has  no 
need,  but  to  strengthen  himself  by  the  great  influence 
of  that  Church  throughout  the  West,  lie  is  not  de- 
terred by  the  fact  that  the  Church  is  at  this  time 
passing  through  an  interregnum  on  the  eve  of  an  epis- 
copal election.  The  Roman  clergy,  even  without  a 
bishop,  seem  to  him  competent  to  pronounce  a  judg- 
ment, and  he  receives  their  full  approbation,  t  He 
does  not  fail  to  appeal  to  the  confessors  who  are  in  the 
prisons  at  Rome,  X  and  he  has  the  good  fortune  to  ob- 
tain from  one  of  the  latter  explicit  approval  of  his 
conduct. §  He  thus  opposes  confessors  to  confessors, 
as  the  surest  means  of  triumphing  over  the  resistance 
which  is  harassing  him. 

That  nothing  might  be  neglected,  the  Bishop  of 
Carthage  further  appealed  to  the  recreant  Chris- 
tians themselves,  who  were  the  cause  of  all  this  con- 
fusion.    He    demanded  their  prompt  submission,  and 

*  Cyprian,  '*Ep."  17,  1-3.  t  Ibid.  20,  27. 

t  Ibid.  28.  §  Ibid.  30. 


158  THE    EARLY   CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

sharply  reproached  them  with  daring  to  place  their 
demands  under  the  name  of  the  Church,  as  if  the 
Church  could  be  elsewhere  than  in  the  body  of  the  faith- 
ful united  to  the  bishop  and  his  clergy  ;  as  if  it  had  any 
other  basis  than  the  episcopate,  which  is  the  rock  on 
which  it  rests.  * 

Hitherto  Cyprian  had  shown  as  much  wisdom  as 
firmness  in  this  difficult  conflict.  Nothing  was  more 
reasonable  than  to  adjourn  till  peace  was  restored  in 
the  Church,  the  examination  of  the  many  cases  of  dis- 
cipline which  had  arisen  out  of  the  persecution,  and  to 
oppose  readmission  on  hasty  and  ill-considered  grounds. 
It  was  with  equal  reason  that  the  bishop  made  an  ex- 
ception in  the  case  of  the  fallen  Christians,  who  had 
had  opportunity  in  the  course  of  the  persecution  to  per- 
form acts  of  resistance  to  idolatry  at  the  peril  of  their 
lives,  t  Cyprian  acted  inconsistently  with  the  great 
principles  so  nobly  developed  by  him  in  this  grave  crisis 
of  his  episcopate,  when  he  admitted  that  in  cases  of 
mortal  sickness  the  certificates  of  the  martyrs  might  be 
substituted  for  the  ordinary  rules  of  discipline.  X  We 
could  well  have  understood  his  conduct,  had  he  author- 
ised his  priests  to  give  the  communion  to  dying  persons 
who  showed  sincere  repentance,  but  why  recognise  this 
intervention  of  purely  human  merit  or  intercession  ? 
This  was  to  concede  the  principle  of  the  very  error  he 
had  been  opposing.  It  would  thus  seem  that  what  he 
was  supremely  anxious  to  guard  was  his  right  as  bishop, 

*  **  Quando  ecclesia  in  episcopo  et  clero  et  in  omnibus  stantibus  sit  con- 
stituta."     Cyprian,  "Ep."33,  i.  t  Ibid.  25. 

I  "  Occurrendum  puto  fratribus  nostris,  ut  qui  libellos  a  maiiyrilnis 
acceperunt  et  proerogativa  eorum  apud  Deum  adjuvari  possunt,  si  incom- 
nicdo  aliquo  et  infirmitatis  periculo  occupati  fuerint."     Ibid.  18,  i. 


SECOND    PHASE    OF   THE    STRUGGLE.  159 

and  that  any  proceeding  was  regular  to  which  his  sanc- 
tion had  been  given.  This  was  a  grievous  inconsistency, 
fraught  with  grave  perils  for  the  future,  for  we  know 
that  the  Church  of  the  middle  ages  attributed  to  the 
glorified  martyrs  this  dangerous  prerogative  of  devolv- 
ing their  merits  upon  the  unworthy,  on  condition  that 
all  was  done  under  the  sanction  of  the  hierarchy. 

§  2. — Second  Phase  of  the  Struggle  after  the  Return  of 
Cyprian  to  Carthage. 
Cyprian  had  held  his  ground  on  the  question  of  the 
restoration  of  apostates.  When  he  returned  to  Carth- 
age, however,  in  251,  as  soon  as  the  persecution  at  al] 
relaxed,  he  encountered  an  opposition  more  formidable 
than  any  in  the  past.  Schism  was  on  the  eve  of  being 
declared.  This  new  division  was  occasioned  by  a  very 
wise  decision  of  Cyprian.  He  had  decreed  that  a 
visitation  should  be  made  in  the  various  parishes  of 
Carthage  by  two  bishops  and  two  elders,  to  inquire  into 
the  necessities  of  the  poor,  and  confer  as  to  the  best 
means  of  succouring  them;  and  also  to  ascertain  in 
what  condition  matters  really  were  after  the  stormy 
period  through  which  the  Church  had  lately  passed.  It 
was  to  be,  in  fact,  a  sort  of  ecclesiastical  inspection.  * 
Nothing  could  be  more  exasperating  to  the  antiepis- 
copal  party.  It  saw  in  this  interference  of  Cyprian  a 
flagrant  usurpation,  for  it  maintained  the  independence 
of  the  various  parishes,  which  should  not,  in  its  view, 
be  united  by  anything  more  than  a  federative  bond. 
Felicissimus,  whom  Novatus  had  raised  to  the  diaco- 
nate  without  the  consent  of  Cyprian,  and  who  appears 

*  "Cumque  pro  me  vicarios  miserim/'     Cyprian,  "  Ep."4i.  i. 


l6o  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

to  have  obtained  great  influence  in  his  Church,  owing 
probably  to  its  isolated  position  on  a  hill,^  openly  re- 
sisted his  bishop.  He  separated  himself  from  him,  and 
threatened  excommunication  to  any  members  of  his 
flock  who  should  not  follow  his  example.  He  was  sup- 
ported by  the  priests  of  the  party  of  opposition,  who 
had  never  ceased  to  remain  united  in  their  schismatic 
tendencies.  Cyprian  replied  by  putting  him  out  of  the 
communion  of  the  Church,  and  he  was  sustained  in  this 
decided  measure  by  the  bishops  and  priests  to  whom 
he  had  committed  the  inspection.  War  was  declared 
anew  between  the  two  parties.  No  reconciliation  was 
possible.  One  of  the  refractory  priests,  named  Fortu- 
natus,  became  the  bishop  of  the  opposition,  t  This 
party  endeavoured  to  convoke  a  council,  but  they  could 
only  assemble  a  very  insigniiicant  number  of  bishops.  X 
Cyprian  held  at  Carthage  a  great  council  of  the  bishops 
of  Africa,  in  order  to  ratify  the  disciplinary  measures 
determined  on  by  him  during  the  persecutions.  He 
deferred  the  final  resolution  to  a  later  examination,  only 
because  he  was  primarily  anxious  to  obtain  the  con- 
firmation of  the  excommunication  he  had  pronounced 
upon  Felicissimus  and  his  partisans.  §  He  received 
the  entire  adherence  of  his  colleagues.  The  bishops 
of  Italy  held  a  cimilar  council  in  Rome  at  the  same 
period,  and  reached  the  same  conclusions.  ||      C}  prian 

*  "  Secum  in  monte."  Cyprian,  **Ep. "  41,  2.  There  is  no  ground  for 
writing  in  7)iontt\ 

t  "Fortunato  pseudo  episcopo  a  paucis  et  inveteratis  lias-eticis  consii- 
tuto."     Cyprian,  "Ep."  59,  ii.  %  Ibid.  59,  14. 

§  "Auctoritas  episcoporum  in  Africa  constitutorum  qui  jam  de  illis 
judicaverunt  et  eorum  conscientiam  judicii  sui  nuper  gravitate  damnarant. " 
Ibid.  59,  20. 

II  "Cumque  semel  placuerit  tarn  nobis  quam  confe-soribus  et  clericis 
urbicis,   item  universis   episcopis  vel   in  nostra  provincia  vel  trans  mare 


SECOND    PHASE    OF   THE    STRUGGLE.  l6l 

held  a  second,  a  short  time  afterwards,  in  anticipation 
of  another  persecution.  The  decisions  taken  with  regard 
to  the  fallen  Christians  who  should  give  proof  of  re- 
pentance in  the  article  of  death,  and  those  which  were 
designed  to  render  readmission  to  the  Church  more  easy, 
where  there  was  earnest  penitence  and  firm  resistance 
to  the  assaults  of  the  enemy,  were  sanctioned  without 
opposition.* 

Peace  seemed  re-established  in  the  Church  of  Car 
thage,  but  the  conflict  only  broke  forth  afresh  on  a 
wider  arena.  Novatus  repaired  to  Rome,  with  the  firm 
intention  of  fomenting  division  there,  and  of  finding 
allies  in  his  determined  resistance  to  his  bishop. t  This 
idea  absorbed  every  other  in  his  mind.  This  was 
soon  made  evident  by  his  sudden  change  of  opinion 
and  tactics.  After  appearing  as  the  advocate  of  ex- 
cessive tolerance,  in  order  to  gain  the  adherence  of 
the  African  martyrs,  we  find  him  seeking  allies  in 
Italy  among  men  of  the  most  opposite  views  ;  thus 
showing  that  he  attached  no  real  importance  to  the 
question  of  discipline,  and  that  his  one  object  was  to 
secure  a  triumph*over  the  episcopal  power.  The  cir- 
cumstances in  which  the  Church  of  Rome  was  at  this 
time  placed  were  favourable  to  the  projects  of  Novatus. 
Bishop  Fabianus  had  suffered  martyrdom  in  the  year 
250:  his  place  was  not  yet  filled.  There  might  be  hope 
of  raising  to  the  episcopal  see  of  this  great  Church  a 
representative  of  the  party  opposed  to  the  hierarchy — 
a  party  which  had  never  been  completely  vanquished 
in  Rome. 

constitutis  ut  nihil  innoveretiu-  circa  lapsoruni  causam,  nisi  omnes  in  uimm 

convenerimus. "     Cyprian,.  "Ep."43,  2.  *  Ibid.  57,  I. 

t  "  Novatus  cum  sua  tempeslale  ad  Ronir.ii  navigaas."  Ibid.  52,  2. 

12 


102  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

The  Montanist  leaven  diffused  by  St.  Hippolytus  was 
still  working.  The  terrible  persecution  which  had  just 
swept  over  the  Church  had  been  favourable  to  it. 
Novatus  did  not  hesitate  an  instant  in  attaching  him- 
self to  the  rigid  disciplinarians,  because  in  Rome  their 
party  alone  offered  active  opposition  to  the  hierarchy, 
which  they  regarded  as  the  great  enemy.  This  sudden 
change  of  tactics  on  the  part  of  Novatus  was  not 
unattended  with  difficulty,  for  the  Roman  Christians, 
and  especially  the  partisans  of  the  liberties  of  the 
Church,  had  supported  Cyprian  in  his  treatment  of 
the  apostates.  It  could  not  be  otherwise.  At  Rome 
resistance  to  the  progress  of  the  hierarchy  had  always 
been  based  upon  disciplinary  severity.  Ecclesiastical 
liberalism  had  there  been  rather  a  means  than  an  end, 
the  principal  end  being  the  purity  of  the  Church. 
From  this  point  of  view  the  liberals  of  Rome  had  been 
far  more  favourable  to  Cyprian  than  to  his  opponents, 
and  had  testified  their  approval  to  him  in  the  most 
explicit  manner.  Novatus  was  therefore  compelled  to 
veer  completely  round,  which  he  did  with  the  less 
difficulty,  since,  while  changing  tactics,  he  still  kept 
the  same  end  in  view. 

The  two  parties  which  divided  the  Church  of  Rome 
had  not  renewed  their  quarrels  since  the  death  of 
Hippolytus.  A  common  peril,  if  it  had  not  reconciled, 
had  at  least  pacified,  especially  during  the  period 
which  followed  the  death  of  Fabianus.  That  spirit  of 
union  and  concession,  so  necessary  in  the  critical 
position  of  a  Church  left  without  a  head  under  the  lire 
of  a  terrible  persecution,  is  manifested  in  a  letter 
addressed   by  the    Roman   priests  and  deacons  to  the 


SECOND    PHASE    OF   THE    STRUGGLE.  163 

Church  of  Carthage,  at  the  very  time  when  Cyprian 
must  have  fled  before  the  proscription.  We  find  in 
this  document,  written  with  the  utmost  simplicity,  a 
tone  of  great  earnestness,  and  a  deep  feeling  of  the 
responsibility  of  a  clergy  without  a  bishop  at  its  head, 
and  bound  therefore  to  exercise  a  more  scrupulous 
watchfulness  over  itself.*  We  recognise  the  Church 
of  the  catacombs  in  the  pressing  exhortations  con- 
tained in  this  letter  not  to  neglect  the  bodies  of  the 
martyrs. t  The  question  of  discipline  is  touched  upon 
cautiously.  On  the  one  hand,  the  Roman  clergy 
regards  it  as  its  duty  to  show  the  most  compassionate 
care  for  the  fallen  Christians  ;  I  on  the  other  hand,  it 
does  not  appear  to  sanction  public  and  formal  resto- 
ration to  the  Church  :  it  leaves  the  apostates  to  the 
mercy  of  God,  except  where  death  is  obviously  at 
hand.§  Such  a  letter  must  clearly  have  been  the 
result  of  mutual  concessions,  though  its  prevailing 
spirit  is  that  of  a  reasonable  leniency. 

It  was  not  possible  that  this  harmony  should  long 
continue.  The  controversies  raised  at  Carthage  speedily 
found  an  echo  in  Rome.  W^e  have  seen  the  confessors, 
when  appealed  to  by  Cyprian,  giving  him  their  ad- 
herence, and  differing  from  their  brethren  in  Africa  by 
the  severity  of  their  views.  The  conflicting  opinions 
of  the  two  parties  were  brought  into  prominence 
by  the  election  of  the  new  bishop,  which  was  the 
occasion  of  sharp  competition.     The  candidate  of  the 

*  Cyprian,  "Ep."  8,  i.  _  f  Ibid.  S,^.  I  Ibid.  8,  i. 

§  "  Si  quo  modo  indulgentiam  poterunt  recipere  ab  eo  qui  potest 
pr,T;stare."  Cyprian,  "  Ep."  8,  2.  "  Subdidimus,  ut  si,  qui  in  banc  tenta- 
tioncm  incidernnt,  cxperint  apprehendi  infirmitate  et  agant  pcenitentiam 
facli  sui  et  desiderent  communionem,  utique  subveniri  iis  debet."   Ibid.  8,3. 

12* 


164  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

sterner  school  was  an  eminent  priest  of  the  Roman 
clergy,  named  Novatian.  Grave  charges  were  brought 
against  this  man  by  his  enemies.  His  successful 
opponent,  Bishop  Cornelius,  circulated  the  report  that 
he  had  been  afflicted  in  his  youth  with  one  of  those 
mysterious  maladies  which  were  supposed  to  indicate 
demoniacal  possession.*  The  unknown  exorcist  to 
whom  he  owed  his  deliverance  is  said  to  have  baptized 
him  on  his  sick  bed,  which,  it  was  supposed,  would 
speedily  prove  the  bed  of  death  ;  and  he  thus  never 
received  the  laying  on  of  hands  from  the  bishop.  It 
was  inferred  that  his  nomination  to  the  priesthood 
would  be  irregular.  Cornelius  further  reproaches  him 
with  having  fled  away  from  danger  and  from  duty 
during  the  days  of  persecution,  and  persisting  in  re- 
maining in  his  place  of  safety  in  spite  of  the  entreaties 
of  the  deacons  of  the  Church. t  Cyprian  perhaps  gives 
us  the  true  version  of  this  accusation,  when  he  speaks 
of  him  as  a  Christian  stoic,!  from  which  we  may  sup- 
pose that  he  was  living  an  ascetic,  perhaps  almost  a 
hermit  life,  after  the  rude  shocks  to  his  nature  which 
had  given  rise  to  the  rumour  that  he  was  possessed. 
Perhaps,  also,  he  may  have  already  had  scruples  as  to 
the  laxity  with  which  the  communion  was  given  to  the 
dying,  and  was  not  disposed,  as  a  priest,  to  encourage 
these  practices,  though  not  prepared  to  break  openly 
with  the  Church.  We  can  place  no  reliance  on  these 
portraits  of  the  great  schismatics,  drawn  by  their 
enemies.  The  portrait  of  Cornelius,  by  Novatian,  would 
probably  not  be  much^more  faithful. 

*  BoTjOoiif-ievot;  vTzb  ratv  Ittopkkttmv.     Eusebius,  '*  H.  E."  vi.  43. 
t  YlapaKaXovji^voq    vtto    Tutv    ^laKoriov     iv    tXe\Ou}V    tov     >UiJroif    tv    (^ 
KaOtlf)^Ev  CLTTSffx^  TOV  TTftOapx^l^^^  Tol(^  Elukovoiq.      Ibid.  vi.  43. 
X  Cyprian,  "Ep."  55,  13. 


SECOND    PHASE    OF    THE    STRUGGLE.  165 

It  is  beyond  question  that  Novatian  was  a  man  emi- 
nent for  intelligence,  eloquence,  and  learning,  and  that 
he  had  acquired  great  influence  in  the  Church  of  Rome.* 
The  best  proof  of  this  is  that  he  was  chosen  by  the 
Church  to  be  its  organ  in  conveying  to  Cyprian  its  ad- 
hesion to  the  disciplinary  decisions  which  he  had  sub- 
mitted to  it  for  the  approval  of  the  brethren. t  Through 
this  letter  we  are  able  to  form  some  opinion  of  Novatian 
himself  at  this  period  of  his  life.  We  see  that  while 
yielding  approval  to  Cyprian,  he  is  prepared  to  go 
further  than  C3'prian  does,  and  already  inclines  to 
greater  severity.  After  enunciating  broadly  the  principle 
of  the  independence  of  the  Churches  in  relation  to  one 
another,  he  lays  down  the  basis  on  which  all  rules  of 
discipline  should  rest.  "  What,"  he  says,  "  can  be  more 
in  harmony  with  the  state  of  peace  in  the  Church,  or 
more  necessary  in  time  of  the  war  of  persecution,  than 
the  maintenance  of  the  just  severity  of  the  Divine  dis- 
cipline?" X  It  is  this  discipline  which  is  the  rudder  of 
the  Church,  by  which  alone  it  can  be  safely  steered  off 
the  rocks.  This  is  no  innovation.  Severity  forms  part 
of  the  ancient  tradition  of  the  Church,  and  of  the  faith 
cf  primitive  times.  §  It  is  the  sacred  trust  which  we 
must  guard  at  all  costs,  for  it  is  infinitely  worse  to  fall 
from  the  height  once  occupied,  than  never  to  have 
attained  to  it. 

Novatian  recalls  the  just  rigour  of  the  measures 
taken  against  those  who,  not  only  had  sacrificed  to 
idols,  but  had  also  shielded  themselves  by  obtaining  for 

*  *'  Jactet  se  licet  et  pliiloso])hiam  vel  eloqueiUiam  suam  supeibis  vocibus 
prsedicet."     Cyprian,  "Ep."  55,  20. 

t  "  Novatiano  tunc  scribente."     Ibid.  55,  4.  J  Ibid.  3c,  2. 

§  "  Antiqua  haec  apud  nos  severitas."     Ibid.  30,  2. 


l66  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

money  false  certificates.  It  makes  but  little  difference 
whether  these  certificates  were  presented  by  themselves 
or  not.  We  should  judge  that  the  writer  of  this  letter 
had  already  some  fear  that  salutary  discipline  was  likely 
to  be  relaxed.  "  Far,  very  far  from  the  Church  of  Rome," 
said  he,  ''  be  any  attempt  to  undermine  its  strength  by 
a  profane  laxity,  and  to  weaken  the  force  of  discipline 
by  overthrowing  the  majesty  of  the  faith."  *  There 
could  be  no  surer  method  to  envenom  the  wounds  which 
it  is  pretended  thus  to  heal.  Novatian  glories  in  the 
fact  that  the  confessors  of  Rome  have  been  faithful  to 
these  holy  rules,  and  have  understood  that  it  is  a  sacred 
duty,  transmitted  to  them  through  glorious  sufferings, 
not  to  weaken  the  authority  of  the  gospel.  Novatian 
felicitates  Cyprian  on  the  support  he  has  given  to  the 
good  cause,  and  on  the  declaration  of  approval  he  has 
elicited  from  the  Roman  martyrs.  lie  does  not  enter 
into  detail  on  the  disciplinary  measures  of  Cyprian, 
which  he  may  in  all  probability  not  have  accepted 
without  some  reserve,  but  as  chief  of  the  rigorist  party 
he  could  but  applaud  the  firmness  of  his  conduct  as  a 
whole.  Novatian  adds  that  this  entire  question  of  dis- 
cipline is  to  wait  for  a  decisive  solution  till  the  new 
bishop,  who  is  to  be  Fabianus'  successor,  shall  be  nomi- 
nated. Not  till  then  could  the  Church,  as  a  whole, 
give  to  the  decisions  arrived  at  the  authority  of  a  com- 
petent deliberation  of  all  its  representatives. 

Novatian  did  not  compromise  himself  much  by  these 
declarations,  for  he  had,  at  this  time,  the  full  hope  of 
himself  (as  bishop)  directing  the  deliberations.    The  fact 

*  "  Absit  ab  ec.:lesia  Romana  vigorem  suum  tarn  p:-ofana  fajil.-a  e  dimit- 
tere."     Cypiiaa,  "Ep."  30,  3. 


SECOND    PHASE    OF    THE    STRUGGLE.  167 

of  his  having  been  chosen  to  be  the  organ  of  his  Church 
in  its  communications  with  the  greatest  bishop  of  the 
age,  was  the  proof  of  the  ascendency  of  his  party  and  a 
presage  of  his  own  election.  Beyond  this,  the  conclusion 
of  the  letter  clearly  shows  that  its  author  will  incline  to 
severity.  *'  Consider,"  he  says  to  Cyprian,  *'  the  whole 
world  desolated  by  apostasy  ;  see  everywhere  the  scat- 
tered ruins  left  by  these  innumerable  falls.  The  measures 
to  be  taken  must  correspond  to  the  extent  of  the  evil  ; 
the  remedy  must  not  be  slighter  than  the  wound.  We 
have  yet  to  learn  if  the  cause  of  the  fall  has  not  been 
the  false  temerity  inspired  in  the  hearts  of  those  who 
have  fallen."  * 

Novatian  leaves  them  one  hope.  He  will  not  drive 
them  utterly  to  despair.  He  is  constrained,  moreover, 
to  remember  that  he  is  to  represent  moderate  views,  it 
he  will  not  arouse  a  premature  conflict  in  the  Church 
of  which  he  is  at  this  time  the  mouthpiece.  He  thus 
sums  up  his  views  on  the  subject  of  the  rtcreant  Chris- 
tians. '.'Let  them  knock  at  the  doors  of  the  Church, 
but  let  them  not  force  them.t  Let  their  tears  plead  for 
them."  Novatian  concludes  by  observing  that  God  is 
not  only  merciful,  but  just ;  and  that  Jesus  Christ  has 
said,  "  I  will  deny  before  my  Father  those  who  have 
denied  me  before  men.  If  He  prepares  heaven,  He  also 
prepares  hell." 

In  a  word,  the  Church  of  Rome,  in  concert  with  the 
bishops  of  the  neighbouring  Churches,  had  adjourned 
the  final  decision  till  a  new  bish(  p  should  have  been  ap- 
pointed.   Meanwhile  exception  was  to  be  made  in  favour 

*  "  Non  sil  minor  mcdicina  qiiam  vulnus."     CyiMinn,  "  Ep. "  30,  6. 
f  "  lulacnt  sane  lores,  scd  non  ulique  coafringant.''     Ibul.  50,  7. 


l68  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

of  fallen  Christians,  who,  being  at  the  point  of  death, 
give  evidence  of  sincere  repentance.  This  was  clearly 
a  temporary  concession  of  Novatian  to  the  party  in  the 
Church  which  was  inclined  to  lenity.  It  is  plain,  from 
this  letter,  that  if  the  two  parties  are  for  the  present 
united,  it  is  by  a  very  fragile  bond,  and  that  the  dis- 
ciplinarians are  only  waiting  the  election  of  the  bishop, 
to  urge  on  sterner  measures.  With  regard  to  Novatian 
himself,  we  conclude  from  this  document  that  he  was 
a  pious,  eloquent,  and  able  man,  one  worthy  to  be  the 
spokesman  of  his  Church. 

His  hopes  were  doomed  to  speedy  disappointment. 
In  the  year  251,  Cornelius,  the  representative  of  the 
opposite  party,  was  elected  bishop.  This  was  the  signal 
for  a  rupture.  The  partisans  of  Novatian  could  not 
acquiesce  in  the  frustration  of  their  hopes.  They  had 
thought  the  n selves  on  the  eve  of  victory,  and  about 
to  revenge  Hippolytus  by  placing  in  the  see  of  Rome 
a  bishop  who  should  be  the  true  inheritor  of  his 
spirit.  • 

Let  us  picture  to  ourselves  what  would  have  been 
the  mortification  of  the  Jansenists  of  the  seventeenth 
century  if  they  had  had  the  chance  of  placing  one  of 
their  representatives  at  the  head  of  the  Church,  and 
had  then  been  suddenly  defeated.  We  can  hardly 
conceive  what  smothered  fires  of  passion  lie  at  the  heart 
of  religious  minorities,  constrained  to  champ  the  bit  in 
seeming  submission. 

Immediately  on  the  election  of  Cornelius,  intestine 
war  was  declared.  Novatian  seems,  in  the  first  in- 
stance, to  have  resisted  the  desire  of  his  followers,  who 
would  have  named  him  as  bishop   without  delay.     So 


SECOND    PHASE    OF    THE    STRUGGLE.  169 

at  least  he  wrote  to  Dionysius  of  Alexandria.*  But 
there  was  a  man  in  Rome  ready  to  fan  the  spark  of 
discord,  and  to  urge  on  violent  measures.  This  was 
Novatus,  the  schismatic  of  Carthage,  who  had  long 
been  an  unscrupulous  troubler  of  the  peace  of  the 
Church.  He  was  the  soul  of  the  party  of  resistance, 
and  threw  all  his  ardent  zeal  into  the  cause. t  Nova- 
tian  yielded  to  his  influence,  took  the  decisive  step, 
and  allowed  himself  to  be  nominated  bishop.  Three 
obscure  bishops  of  Italy  came  to  consecrate  him.  One 
of  them,  who  speedily  forsook  him,  pretended  that 
Novatian  had  inaugurated  the  consecration  by  a  scene 
of  debauch,  endeavouring  to  intoxicate  those  whom  he 
wished  to  make  his  accomplices.!  This  gross  calumny 
does  not  deserve  a  moment's  belief.  The  bishop  who 
had  allowed  himself  for  a  brief  time  to  be  led  into  schism, 
would  fain  make  his  peace  at  any  price,  and  he  knew 
that  the  best  means  to  this  end  would  be  to  bring  accu- 
sations against  the  formidable  rival  of  Cornelius.  How 
can  we  suppose  that  the  head  of  the  austere  party 
would  have  dishonoured  and  ruined  his  cause  by  an 
act  which  was  in  flagrant  contradiction  to  all  his  pre- 
tensions. Dionysius  of  Alexandria  would  not  have 
written  to  a  man  with  a  reputation  thus  blemished,  in 
the  tone  of  brotherly  regard  which  he  used  in  seeking 
to  win  him  back. 

The  contest  between  the  two  parties  would  evidently 
be  a  severe  one.  The  first  result  of  the  rupture  was  to 
enable  Novatian  and  his  party  to  throw  aside  the  garb 
of  caution   they  had    hitherto   worn.      They  declared 

*  At'  opKwv  (pot^epuJv  Tivu)V  7n<Troi>ixevog  rb  fir]S'  oXiog  sTnaicnTrrji:  dp&yftrBai. 
Eusebius,  "  H.  E."  vi.  43.      "  Epistola  Cornelii  ad  Fabium. " 

t  Cyprian,  "  Ep."  52,  2.  t  Eusebius,  "  H.  E."  vi.  43. 


170  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

themselves  at  once  as  the  advocates  of  the  most  rigid 
severity  in  the  question  of  discipline ;  they  returned  to 
the  ancient  tradition  of  the  Church,  in  the  form  in 
which  Hippolytus  had  embodied  it.  The  possibility 
of  restoration  to  the  Church  w^as  denied  to  all  who  in 
any  manner,  whether  by  word  or  act  of  their  own,  or 
through  the  medium  of  others,  had  denied  the  faith  in 
times  of  persecution.  They  were  left  to  the  mercy  of 
God  ;  their  repentance  might  be  accepted  by  the  Judge 
who  alone  tries  the  hearts,  but  the  Church  could  no 
more  open  her  doors  to  them.  * 

Not  content  with  this  exclusion,  they  extended  it, 
after  the  manner  of  the  Montanists,  to  all  grave 
offences,  which  they  called  also  mortal  sins,  sustain- 
ing themselves  by  Tertullian's  powerful  polemics. 
They  went  yet  further,  for  this  implacable  discipline 
was  a  consequence  of  their  idea  of  tlie  Church.  They 
would  not  allow  that  the  Church  should  be  a  mixed 
society :  it  was  to  be  preserved  from  all  contact  with 
evil,  and  to  maintain  a  blameless  reputation. t  Hence 
they  called  themselves  the  pure.  In  order  to  show 
how  completely  they  repudiated  the  old  ecclesiastical 
organisation,  they  subjected  their  adherents  to  a  second 
baptism. 

Thus  we  find    in   Novatianism,  in  a  new  form,  the 

*  Eusehius,  '' H.E."  vi.  43.  Ta7g  Travraxov  fKK\7](riai<;  typatpe  ju?)  d^x^rrOcn 
Tovg  tTTinOvKorag  ilg  ra  {.ivfrrlipia,  aWd  TvpoTpkiTHV  avrovg  dg  furavoiav, 
rqv  Ti  avy\wpi]aiv  iTrirptTriiv  6e<p  Ttp  Swa/jifVii)  Kai  t^ovaiav  txovri 
avyx^P^'^'^  ni-iapTi]jnaTa.      Socrates,  "  H.  E."  iv.  28. 

t  Pacianus  of  Barcelona,  who  lived  at  the  close  of  the  fourth  century, 
has  thus  epitomised  the  views  of  the  Novatians  on  the  subject  of  the 
Church,  "  Quod  mortale  peccatum  ecclesia  dare  non  possit,  inimo  quod 
ipsa  pereat  recipiendo  peccantes."  "  Contra  Novat."  Epist.  iii.  Akesius, 
a  Novatian  bishop,  refused  restoration  at  the  council  of  Nicoea,  not  only  to 
the  h/si,  but  to  all  who  had  le-in  guilty  of  any  mortal  sin.  Socrates, 
*'  li.  E."i.  10. 


SECOND    PHASE    OF    THE    STRUGGLE.  17I 

same  principles  which,  thirty  years  before,  had  raised 
such  violent  controversies  in  Rome,  and  had  been  so 
signally  condemned.  They  had  never  had  so  good  an 
opportunity  of  gaining  the  ascendency.  The  adherents 
of  the  schism  were  numerous;  its  leaders  were  energetic 
and  able;  they  engaged  at  once  in  active  propagandism, 
sending  emissaries  into  all  the  Churches,*  and  aiming 
to  secure  the  election  of  bishops  holding  their  doctrines 
wherever  they  had  a  nucleus  of  followers.  In  Rome 
itself  the  schismatics  had  on  their  side  the  confessors, 
who  were  inclined  to  severity.  These  appear  at  the 
commencement  of  the  movement  to  have  heartily  en- 
tered into  it. 

For  a  brief  space  there  seemed  hope  that  Novatian 
might  obtain  some  favour  with  Cyprian.  It  was 
remembered  that  he  had  written,  in  the  name  of 
the  Church  of  Rome,  a  letter  approving  Cyprian's 
policy.  The  martyrs  who  were  on  his  side  had  lent 
most  useful  support  to  the  bishop  of  Carthage  in  his 
contest  with  the  confessors  of  Africa,  when  these 
showed  themselves  inclined  to  excessive  indulgence. 
Cornelius  was  as  yet  a  stranger  to  Cyprian  ;  grave 
calumnies  were  current  with  regard  to  him.  He  was 
accused  of  being  a  libellaticus^  that  is,  of  having  secured 
his  safety  in  time  of  persecution  by  a  false  certificate 
of  apostasy.  Cyprian  was  troubled  at  first  by  these 
false  reports  which  had  reached  his  ear.  A  delegation 
of  bishops  was  sent  from  Africa  to  Rome,  to  collect 
accurate  information  on  the  election 'of  Cornelius.t 

A  bishop  of  Africa,  Antonianus,  had  given  his  warm 

*  •'  Per  plurimas  civitates  novos  apostolos  suos  mittat."   Cvprian,  "Ep." 
55,  23.  f  Ibid.  44,  I. 


172  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

adherence  to  Novatian.*  Novatian  had  further  found 
a  hearing  with  Fabianus,  bishop  of  Cffisarea,  who  h-.d 
called  a  synod,  clearly  with  the  intention  of  supporting 
him.t  The  danger  was  great  for  Cornelius,  who  ap- 
pears to  have  had  a  valiant  heart  but  a  feeble  mind  ; 
for  we  find  him,  in  the  height  of  the  crisis,  allowing 
himself  to  be  influenced  for  a  moment  against  Cyprian 
by  the  deacon  Felicissimus,  when  his  one  hope  of 
safety  lay  in  securing  the  support  of  the  great  bishop 
of  Carthage. 

These  misunderstandings  between  the  heads  of  the 
two  great  centres  of  Western  Christendom  were  quickly 
dispelled.  The  deputation  of  African  bishops  which 
had  been  sent  to  Rome  assured  Cyprian  that  the 
election  of  Cornelius  had  been  perfectly  regular.^  The 
part  played  by  Novatus,  the  Carthaginian,  in  the 
formation  of  the  new  schism,  had  helped  to  enlighten 
them.  Moreover,  Novatianism  had  sought  to  stir  up  the 
elements  of  discord  in  Carthage  itself.  Felicissimus, 
as  we  have  already  said,  had  gone  to  Rome  for  the 
purpose  of  abetting  schism, §  while  the  priest  Maximus 
had  gone,  in  the  name  of  Novatian,  to  disturb  the 
peace  of  the  African  Church,  and  canvass  there  for  the 
episcopal  office.  He  got  it  conferred  upon  himself  by 
an  insignificant  minority,  altogether  ignoring  Fortu- 
natus,  whom  Felicissimus  had  recently  made  bishop. || 
Henceforward  the  cause  of  Cornelius  became  the 
cause   of   Cyprian.     The    bishop  of   Carthage  entered 

*  Cyprian,  "Ep."  55,  i. 

t  ^a€i(i)  viroKaraKXivoixLvii)  T<jj  cfXiOj-iaTi.  Eusebius,  "H.E."vi.  14.  See 
Socrates,  "  H.  E."  iv.  28.  t  Cyprian,  "Ep."  51,  7.  §  Ibid.  59,  i. 

II  "  IS'am  et  pars  Novatiani  Maximum  presbyterum  nuper  ad  nos  a 
Novatiano  legatum  missum  atque  a  nostra  communicatione  rejectum  nunc 
istic  sibi  fecisse  pseudo  episcopum  dicitur."     Cyprian,  "Ep.  "59,  1 1. 


SECOND  PHASE  OF  THE  STRUGGLE.       173 

into  the  contest  with  full  vigour.  His  first  blows  were 
aimed  at  the  African  recalcitrants.  In  the  eloquent 
letter  which  he  addressed  to  the  Bishop  Antonianus, 
who  had  been  for  a  moment  misled,  he  gave  noble 
expression  to  the  rules  of  moderate  discipline  which 
governed  the  Church.  "  The  fallen  Christians,"  said 
Cyprian,  "  have  been  kept  waiting  while  the  persecution 
lasted.  The  question  of  their  restoration  has  been 
decided  in  Africa,  in  the  synod  held  after  the  restora- 
tion of  peace  to  the  Church.  Cornelius  has  been 
recognised  as  lawfully  invested  with  the  episcopate, 
and  all  the  calumnies  against  him  have  been  refuted. 
With  regard  to  the  discipline  which  he  adopts,  it  is 
the  same  as  was  sanctioned  by  the  second  synod  held 
at  Carthage.  It  is  at  once  severe  and  prudent  for  fallen 
Christians  not  in  the  article  of  death,  and  it  provides 
milder  measures  for  those  approaching  their  end :  in 
the  case  of  these  only  it  dispenses  with  the  usual 
interval  before  restoration.  In  brief,  according  to 
Cyprian,  an  attentive  inquiry  is  made  into  each  parti- 
cular case,  and  the  strict  rules  of  penitence  are  only 
waived  in  the  immediate  presence  of  death.  *'  O 
mockery  of  a  false  brotherhood !  "  *  he  exclaims,  in 
allusion  to  the  extreme  severities  of  the  schismatic 
party.  '' O  miserable  deception  of  those  who  weep  and 
groan  !  O  vain  and  fruitless  tradition  of  heresy ! 
Sinners  are  exhorted  to  repentance,  and  yet  their 
repentance  can  avail  nothing.  You  say  to  your  breth- 
ren :  '  Weep,  pour  Hoods  of  tears,  groan  day  and 
night;  but  for  all  this,  you  shall  die  outside  the  Church. 
You  shall  do  all  that  in  you  lies  to  obtain   peace,  but 

*  "O  fiUotrandiTC  fraternitatis  irrisio  !  "     Cyprian,  "  Ep."  55,  23. 


174  'T^^    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

there  shall  be  no  peace  for  you.'  Let  us  not  thus  repel 
any  penitent.  Let  those  who  seek  the  mercy  of  the 
God  of  fatherly  compassions,  know  that  His  priests  can 
restore  to  them  the  peace  of  the  Church.  Let  us 
accept  the  groans  of  the  suppliants,  and  not  crush  the 
fruit  of  penitence.  The  philosophy  of  Christ  is  not 
the  pitiless  wisdom  of  the  Stoics." 

By  such  exhortations  did  Cyprian  endeavour  to  win 
back  the  wavering.  He  did  not  hesitate  to  strike  a 
blow  at  his  obstinate  opponents,  having  in  this  step 
the  support  of  his  brethren  in  the  episcopate.  Hesita- 
tion was  no  longer  possible,  for  Novatian  had  himself 
crossed  the  sea,  and  come  to  plant  the  standard  of 
schism  on  African  soil.  His  cause  had  been  speedily 
lost  in  Rome,  in  spite  of  his  zealous  endeavours  to  bind 
his  followers  together.  He  had  constrained  them  to  take 
an  oath  before  God,  over  the  wine  and  bread  of  the 
Eucharist,  that  they  would  never  forsake  him.'-'  But 
his  efforts  failed.  The  confessors  who  for  a  time  had 
stood  by  him.  had  yielded  to  the  eloquent  arguments 
of  the  bishop  of  Carthage,  and  had  returned  to  Corne- 
lius. A  humiliating  scene  had  sealed  this  reconciliation. 
They  had  been  seen  presenting  themselves  before  their 
bishop,  who  was  supported  by  five  other  bishops,  and 
declaring  before  all  the  Christian  people  that  they  had 
allowed  themselves  to  be  misled  through  ignorance, 
but  that  they  desired  henceforth  religiously  to  maintain 
the  peace  of  the  Church.  ''  We  acknowledge,"  they 
said,  "  that  Cornelius  has  been  chosen  of  God  Almighty, 
and  of  Jesus  Christ,  as  bishop  of  the  very  holy  Church 
Catholic.     We  confess  our  error.     We  have  been  the 

*  Euscbius,  ''II.  E."vi.  43. 


SECOND  PHASE  OF  THE  STRUGGLE.       175 

victims  of  an  imposture,  and  we  have  allowed  ourselves 
to  be  ensnared  by  artful  words ;  for  even  while  we 
seemed  to  enter  into  the  communion  of  a  schismatic, 
our  soul  was  always  sincerely  attached  to  the  Church. 
We  do  not  forget  that  there  is  but  one  God,  one 
Christ,  one  Holy  Spirit,  and  that  there  ought  to  be  but 
one  bishop  of  the  Church  Catholicv"  These  words, 
which  show  to  what  a  degree  schism  tended,  by  the 
reaction  it  produced,  to  strengthen  the  hands  of  the 
hierarchy,  were  received  with  acclamation  by  all 
present.  They  embraced  the  confessors  with  many 
tears,  and  with  every  demonstration  of  approval  on 
the  part  of  the  Christian  people  their  reintegration 
was  celebrated.*  Cornelius  had,  at  the  same  time, 
assembled  a  large  synod  in  Rome,  in  which  sat  sixty 
bishops,  and  a  great  number  of  priests  and  deacons. 
The  formal  excommunication  of  Novatian  and  his 
followers  was  voted  unanimously.f  Cornelius  had  not 
waited  for  this  opportunity  to  condemn  Felicissimus. 
When  he  was  thrown  into  prison,  in  the  course  of  the 
year  252,  he  might  consider  himself  victorious  over 
schism.  His  adversaries  might  not  lay  down  their 
arms  even  in  presence  of  his  glorious  captivity,  which 
was  speedily  terminated  by  martyrdom  ;  but  it  was  a 
vain  resistance,  and  he  left  to  his  successor  his  power 
intact,  and  even  augmented. 

In  the  East  the  cause  of  Novatian  met  with  rapid 
reverses.  The  greatest  bishop  of  the  Christian  East 
had  declared  against  him.  Dionysius  of  Alexandria 
had  written  him   a  very  noble    letter,    urging  him  to 

*  "  Una  vox  erat  omnium  giMtiasD so  ageutium."  Cyprian,  "Ep,"49,  2. 
t  Eusebius,  ''  H.  E."  vi.  43. 


1/6  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

abandon  his  schismatic  views.  He  had  represented  to 
him  that  it  was  as  noble  to  suffer  for  the  sake  of  the 
unity  of  the  Church,  as  to  endure  martyrdom  for  the 
faith  from  the  hands  of  the  pagans.  *  The  synod  which 
was  to  be  held  at  Csesarea,  and  which  might  possibly 
have  shown  itself  favourable  to  the  Novatians,  was  sus- 
pended almost  as  soon  as  assembled,  by  the  death  of 
Bishop  Fabianus.  t  Gaul  had  held  out  strong  hopes  to 
the  schismatics.  Several  bishops  had  attached  them- 
selves to  them,  but  these  appear  not  to  have  continued 
long  in  the  same  mind,  for  no  mention  is  made  of  them 
after  Cyprian's  letter  to  Stephen.  J 

Novatianism  was  thus  conquered  at  all  points,  and 
could  no  more  hope  to  maintain  itself  within  the  Church. 
From  without,  its  adherents  still  continued  to  oppose 
the  victorious  hierarchy.  These  schismatics  were  never 
classed,  however,  with  heretics,  properly  so  called,  for 
at  Nicaea  they  were  treated  with  great  tolerance.  Their 
bishops,  if  they  would  abjure  schism,  might  be  recognised 
as  priests  of  the  Church,  and  Constantine  left  them 
their  places  of  worship.  In  the  East  they  became  con- 
founded with  the  relics  of  the  Montanist  sect,  and 
with  the  Quartordecimanians.  §  Their  defeat  must  not 
make  us  forgetful  of  the  importance  of  the  movement 
they  initiated.  They  had  succeeded  for  a  moment  in 
creating  a  profound  division  in  the  Church,  and  had 
been  on  the  eve  of  being  recognised  by  an  important 
synod  of  the  Christian  East.  The  explanation  of  their 
influence  is  that  the  schism  of  Novatian  cast  its  roots 
into  a  heroic  past ;  that  it  was  the  last  and  most  power- 

*  Euseb.  "H.  E."  vi.  45.     f  Ibid.  vi.  46.      +  Cyprian,  "  Ep."  68,  i.  2. 
§  "Cod.  Theodos."  lib,  xvi.  tit.  v.  2;  "Can.  Nic."  8;  S(>crates,  "II.  E." 
iv.  28. 


SECOND  PHASE  OF  THE  STRUGGLE.        I77 

ful  manifestation  of  that  party  of  vigorous  discipline 
and  of  Christian  liberty  which,  from  the  time  of  "  Pastor 
Hermas,"  had  so  vigorously  withstood  the  hierarchy. 

We  must  admit,  moreover,  that  both  parties,  widely 
as  they  differed,  had  one  error  in  common  :  neither 
knew  how  to  distinguish  between  the  visible  and  the 
invisible  Church.  The  severer  school  sought  to  realise 
on  earth  the  purity  of  heaven,  and  to  enforce  it  by  an 
iron  discipline,  as  if  the  spirit  of  evil  could  not  find 
stealthy  access  in  spite  of  their  closest  barriers;  as  if 
absolute  perfection  here  on  earth  were  not  a  chimera ; 
as  if  It  were  not  the  path  of  wisdom  and  right  to  open 
the  doors  of  the  Church  to  fallen  Christians  on  their 
giving  appreciable  tokens  of  sincere  repentance,  even 
though  these  could  never  be  absolutely  certain.  The 
mistake  which  this  party  made  with  regard  to  holiness, 
their  adversaries  made  with  regard  to  the  unity  of  the 
Church.  They  sought  an  external,  visible  realisation 
of  it,  and  hence  they  visited  with  excommunication 
mere  differences  of  discipline  and  organisation,  forgetting 
that  there  is  a  higher,  truer  unity— the  unity  of  the  faith, 
a  unity  in  essentials  which  is  quite  compatible  with 
diversities,  and  regards  them  as  the  natural  consequence 
of  our  imperfect  conceptions,  hence  not  to  be  treated 
as  insurmountable  barriers  between  Christians.  When 
Cyprian,  in  the  height  of  the  Novatian  controversy, 
sent  to  Rome  his  treatise  on  the  Unity  of  the  Church, 
the  doctrinal  scope  of  which  we  have  already  described, 
he  little  dreamed  that  he,  the  apostle  of  Catholicity, 
was  laying  the  basis  of  the  greatest  of  all  schisms,  by 
identifying  one  of  the  visible  forms  of  Christianity  with 
that  Christianity  itself,  and  by  rejecting  from  the  Church 


178  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

other  forms,  all  more  or  less  imperfect,  but  having"  an 
equal  right  to  their  place  beneath  the  shadow  of  the 
Cross,  in  virtue  of  that  saying  of  the  Divine  Master, 
"  He  that  is  not  against  me  is  with  me." 

§  3. — Controversy  of  Cyprian  with  the  See  of  Rome  on  the 
Question  of  the  Baptism  of  Heretics. 

Novatianism  being  vanquished,  it  would  seem  that 
Cyprian  might  now  rest  from  ecclesiastical  disputes,  and 
devote  himself  entirely  to  the  building  up  of  his  Church 
— a  task  the  more  needful  as  a  new  persecution  was 
already  impending.  But  the  case  was  far  otherwise. 
Another  controversy  commenced  for  him  at  once,  not 
now  \vith  the  schismatics,  but  with  the  party  of 
authority  to  which  he  had  done  such  signal  service. 
The  episcopate,  according  to  his  ideal  of  it,  was  to  know 
no  resistance  from  beneath  or  domination  from  above. 
Thus,  when  the  bishop  of  Rome  sought  to  impose  his 
judgment  upon  a  disputed  point,  on  the  other  bishops, 
as  one  of  his  predecessors  had  endeavoured  to  do  in  the 
century  preceding,  he  encountered  in  Cyprian  the  same 
opposition  which  Victor  had  aroused  in  Irenseus.  These 
great  bishops  were  as  jealous  of  their  independence  as 
of  their  authority.  We  shall  not  enlarge  upon  the 
special  subject  of  difference  between  Cyprian  and  the 
bishop  of  Rome,  because  this  would  involve  an  ex- 
position of  theological  controversies  to  which  we  need 
not  recur.  The  principal  point  on  which  the  Church  of 
Africa  differed  from  that  of  Rome  was  the  baptism  of 
heretics.  At  Carthage  such  baptism  was  declared  to  be 
of  no  value,  because  it  had  been  administered  outside 
of  the  true  Church.     At  Rome^  on  the  contrary,  it  was 


THE    QUESTION    OF    THE    BAPTISM    OF    HERETICS.     I79 

thought  needless  to  repeat  the  rite,  because  the  name 
of  Jesus  Christ,  in  which  it  had  been  administered, 
rendered  it  valid.  The  laying  on  of  hands  was  deemed 
sufficient  for  the  admission  into  the  Church  of  the  heretic 
who  repudiated  his  past  errors.  The  question  was  a 
complicated  one.  On  the  one  hand  the  bishop  of  Rome 
showed  more  breadth  than  Cyprian,  in  admitting  that 
there  was  a  basis  of  Christian  truth  among  schismatics, 
like  the  Novatians.  On  the  other  hand,  Cyprian 
attached  to  the  moral  aspect  of  the  ordinance  of 
baptism  greater  importance  than  his  adversary,  who 
seemed  to  rest  satisfied  with  mere  sacramental  virtue. 
Beyond  this,  the  opinion  of  Stephen  must  not  be  forced. 
The  only  baptism  admitted  by  him  was  that  which  had 
been  administered  in  the  name  of  Jesus  Christ;  he  even 
exacted  that  the  ancient  formula,  which  united  the 
names  of  Father,  Son,  and  Spirit,  should  have  been 
used  in  full.  We  should  gather  from  him  that  all  the 
heretics  were  agreed  on  this  point.*  This  was  not 
true  as  a  matter  of  fact,  but  it  shows  what  was  the 
doctrinal  standpoint  taken  by  him. 

The  two  adversaries,  in  the  heat  of  debate,  each 
gave  trenchant  expression  to  his  ideas.  Cyprian  laid 
it  down,  as  an  absolute  principle,  that  baptism  out- 
side of  the  Church  is  not  valid,  since  there  is  but  one 
baptism  appointed  for  the  Church. t     Bishop  Stephen 

*  See,  on  this  point,  Hcefele's  learned  dissertation:  "  Concilien  Ge- 
schichte,"  vol.  i.  Stephen  said  that  the  heretics  did  not  rebaptise  their 
adherents  who  came  from  the  Church  to  them.  "  Cum  ipsi  hccretici  propria 
alterutrum  ad  se  venientes  non  baptizent. "  Cyprian.  "  Ep. "  74,  i.  Ac- 
cording to  Stephen,  then,  they  recognised  as  their  own  formula  of  baptism, 
that  used  by  the  Church,  and  hence  the  bishop  of  Rome  concludes  the 
identity  of  the  two  formulae  among  all  the  heretics.  This  was  a  histo- 
rical error. 

t  ' '  Pro  certo  tenentes  neminem  foris  baptizari  extra  ecclesiam  posse,  cum 
sit  baptlsma  unum  in  sancta  ecclesia  constitutum."    Cyprian,  "Ep."  70,  I. 

13* 


l8o  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

expressed,  in  the  following  words,  a  principle  directly 
contrary  :  "  If  one  come  to  you  from  any  heretic  body 
whatever,  follow  the  ancient  tradition  :  give  him  the 
laying  on  of  hands  in  token  of  his  penitence."*  It  is 
clear  that  these  views  were  diametrically  opposed.  No 
conflict  need  have  ensued  if  the  wise  practice  of  primi- 
tive Christianity  had  been  observed,  which  tolerated 
diversity  in  unity;  or  if  the  wise  counsels  of  Irenaeus 
had  been  obeyed,  who  had  admitted  the  lawfulness  of 
a  difference  of  practice  in  the  East  and  West  in  the 
celebration  of  Easter.  The  bishop  of  Rome  was  not 
so  minded.  He  would  not  only  persuade,  but  compel  ; 
he  intended  to  force  upon  the  whole  Church  the  yoke  of 
a  uniformity  forged  at  Rome. 

Cyprian  entered  into  this  contest  with  a  vigour  and 
asperity  at  least  equal  to  that  which  he  had  displayed 
in  treating  the  Novatians.  His  reasoning,  in  the  letters 
he  wrote  on  the  subject,  reverts  incessantly  to  the  unity 
of  the  Church,  beyond  the  bounds  of  which  the  Holy 
Spirit  cannot  work.t  It  follows  that  baptism  in  the 
name  of  the  Son  is  altogether  insufficient.  J  Martyrdom 
itself  loses  all  its  fruits  when  it  is  suffered  by  a  heretic, 
and  the  glorious  baptism  of  blood  is  a  barren  thing  apart 
from  the  unity  of  the  Church.  Beyond  that  pale  is  no 
salvation. §  When  Stephen  appeals  to  tradition,  Cyprian 
stoutly  maintains  the  higher  claims  of  truth,  against 
which  custom  can  avail  nothing.  "It  is  not,"  he  says, 
"the  province  of  custom  to  command;  right  must  rule. 

*  "  Si  quis  ergo  a  quacunque  hseresi  venerit  ad  vos,  nihil  innovetur  nisi 
quod  traditum  est,  ut  manus  illi  imponatur  in  poenitentiam. "  Cyprian, 
'^Ep."  74,  I.  t  Ibid.    69-74. 

X  Ibid.  69,  11;  Ibid.  7?,  19;  Ibid.  74,  5. 

§  "  H;Eretico  nee  baptismo  sanguinis  proficere  ad  salutem  potest,  quia 
salus  extra ecclesiam  non  est."     Ibid.  73,  21. 


THE    QUESTION    OF    THE    BAPTISM    OF    HERETICS.    l8l 

To  bow  to  a  better  opinion  is  not  to  be  vanquished,  it  is 
to  be  instructed.  *  Truth  is  greater  than  custom,  t 
Because  an  error  is  ancient,  it  does  not  follow  it  is  to  be 
perpetuated  :  it  becomes  the  truly  wise  who  fear  God, 
to  embrace  the  truth  joyfully,  rather  than  to  take  the 
part  of  heretics  against  right  and  reason.  Custom 
without  truth  is  only  antiquated  error."  X  Cyprian 
proclaims  the  higher  authority  of  Holy  Scripture,  to 
whose  testimony  he  appeals  continually,  and  which  he 
lays  down  as  the  decisive  rule.  §  "We  are  told,"  he 
says  to  Stephen,  "  that  we  must  change  no  tradition." 
Whence  comes  this  tradition?  Does  it  come  from  Divine 
authority,  from  the  Gospels,  or  the  writings  of  the 
apostles  ?  Then  we  are  bound  to  obey  it  according  to 
the  command  of  Joshua  :  '  Let  the  book  of  the  law  not 
remove  from  thy  lips!'  If,  then,  you  appeal  to  that 
which  is  commanded  in  the  Gospels,  or  contained  in  the 
Epistles  or  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles,  you  will  find  in 
these  the  holy  and  Divine  tradition  which  we  are  bound 
to  observe."  ||  Cyprian  does  not  recognise  any  ecclesi- 
astical authority  as  sovereign  and  infallible,  whether 
it  be  that  of  Rome  or  any  other.  He  admits,  indeed, 
that  the  unity  of  the  Church,  which  is  his  idol, 
had  its  ideal  representation  in  the  apostolic  body  in 
the  person  of  St.  Peter,  and  that  this  is  perpetuated 
in   the  episcopal    chair  of   Rome;1[  but  he   expressly 

*  '*  Non  enim  vincimur,  quando  nobis   afiferuntur  meliora,    sed  instrui- 
mur."     Cyprian,  "  Ep."  71,  3. 

t  "  Quasi  consuetude  major  sit  veritate."     Ibid.  73,  13. 

I  "Non  tamen  quia  aliquando  erratum  est,  ideo  semper  errandum  est." 
Ibid.  73,  23.     "  Consuetudo  sine  veritate  vetustas  erroris  est."    Ibid.  74,  9. 

§  "Nee  hoc  sine  scripture  divinse  auctoritate  proponimus."     Ibid.  73,  8. 

II  "  Si  ergo  aut  in  evangelio  proecipitur  aut  in  apostolorum  epistolis  aut 
actibus  continetur,  observetur  divina  haec  et  sancta  traditio."_   Ibid.  74,  2. 

%  "Una  ecclesia  a  Christo  domino  super  Petrum  origine  unitatis  et  ratione 
fundata."     Ibid.  70,  3. 


l82  THE    EARLY   CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

denies  that  Peter  had  any  supremacy  over  Paul  and  his 
colleagues  in  the  apostolate,  as  he  expressly  denies  to 
the  then  bishop  of  Rome  any  superiority  over  his 
colleagues  in  the  episcopate.  "  Peter,"  he  says,  "whom 
the  Lord  iirst  chose,  and  upon  whom  He  built  His 
Church,  made  no  arrogant  claim  to  superiority  when 
discussing  w^th  Paul  the  question  of  circumcision  :  he 
had  not  the  audacity  to  say  that  the  primacy  was  his, 
and  that  those  who  should  come  after  must  submit 
themselves  to  him.* 

Cyprian  gave  practical  proof  of  his  principles  in  his 
proud  resistance  to  Stephen,  when  the  latter  had  con- 
demned him  and  treated  him  as  a  false  bishop,  t 
Stephen  went  yet  further :  he  issued  a  decree  of  actual 
excommunication  against  his  colleague,  refused  to  hear 
any  of  his  party,  and  even  forbade  the  faithful  to  receive 
them  under  their  roof.  J 

Cyprian,  indignant  at  this  conduct,  passed  bitter 
criticisms  upon  Stephen's  proceedings.  Not  content 
with  resisting  his  claims,  he  reproached  him  with 
writing  letters  full  of  pride  and  contradiction,  and 
altogether  irrelevant.  He  even  accused  him  of  inca- 
pacity and  want  of  intelligence.  §  "  Let  us  ask  our- 
selves," he  says,  "  how  a  priest  can  sustain  the  judg- 
ment  of   God  if  he  accepts   the    baptism   of  heretics, 

*  "  Nam  nee  Petrus  quern  primum  Dominus  elegit  et  super  quern  ^edifi- 
cavit  ecclesiam  suam,  cum  secum  Paulus  de  circumcisione  postmodum 
disceptaret,  vindicavit  sibi  aliquid  insolenter  aut  arroganter  assumsit,  ut 
diceret  se  primatum  tenere  et  obtemperari  a  novellis  et  posteris  sibi  potius 
oportere."     Cyprian,  "Ep."7r,  3.        ., 

t  "  Non  pudet  Stephanum  Cyprianum  pseudochristum  et  pseudoaposto- 
lum  dicere."     Ibid.  75,  26. 

I  "  Ut  venientibus  non  solum  pax  et  communio,  sed  et  tectum  et  hospi- 
tium  negaretur."     Ibid.  75,  25. 

§  '*  Imperite  atque  improvide  scripsit."     Ibid.  74,  I. 


THE    QUESTION    OF    THE    BAPTISM    OF    HERETICS.    183 

when  the  Lord  has  said,  in  words  of  solemn  threatening, 
*  O  priests,  if  ye  hearken  not,  and  write  not  my  laws  in 
your  hearts,  so  that  ye  give  honour  to  my  name,  I  will 
send  my  curse  upon  you,  and  will  even  curse  your 
blessings.' "  Does  he  honour  God  who  accepts  the 
baptism  of  Marcion  ?  Does  he  honour  God  who  affirms 
that  children  are  born  to  Him  of  the  strange  and  adul- 
terous woman  ?  Does  he  honour  God  who,  despising 
the  unity  and  truth  which  proceed  from  the  Divine  law, 
makes  himself  the  avenger  of  heresy  against  t]:e  Church  ? 
Does  he  honour  God  who,  declaring  himself  the  friend 
of  heretics  and  the  foe  of  Christians,  pronounces  excom- 
munication upon  the  priests  of  God,  who  keep  the  truth 
and  the  unity  of  the  Church  ?  If  God  is  indeed  hon- 
oured thus,  let  us  throw  down  our  arms,  let  us  go  into 
captivity,  let  us  deliver  over  to  the  devil  the  ordinances 
of  the  gospel,  the  majesty  of  God,  the  sacraments  of 
the  Divine  host,  the  standard  of  the  heavenly  army  ! 
The  Church  has  then  only  to  give  way  to  heresy,  light 
to  yield  to  darkness,  truth  to  falsehood,  Christ  to  Anti- 
Christ.  Truth  and  the  faith  are  betrayed,  and  we  see  the 
Church  lending  her  sanction  to  that  which  is  dictated 
by  those  without.  -'  St.  Paul  has  said  that  a  bishop 
should  be  "  apt  to  teach."  Now  he  is  "  apt  to  teach  " 
who  is  himself  willing  to  be  taught.  For  it  is  needful 
not  only  that  a  bishop  teach,  but  also  that  he  learn. 
He  is  the  best  teacher  who  is  daily  making  progress  in 
the  truth,  t  It  was  not  possible  to  utter  a  more  em- 
phatic protest  against  the  arrogant  claim  of  the  Roman 
bishop  to  be  a  sovereign  authority  on  matters  of  doctrine. 

*  Cyprian,  "Ep."  74,  8. 
t  "  Oportet  episcopum  non  tantum  docere  sed  et  discere."    Ibid.  74,  lo. 


184  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

Cyprian  held  two  great  provincial  councils  on  the 
occasion  of  this  grave  controversy,  and  he  communicated 
their  decisions  to  Stephen.  '•'  When  the  contest  had 
become  very  bitter,  and  the  bishop  of  Rome  had  pro- 
nounced excommunication  upon  Cyprian,  he  sought  the 
support  of  the  great  Churches  of  the  East,  to  which  the 
decree  of  excommunication  had  been  sent.  Dionysius 
of  Alexandria  repelled  the  assumptions  of  Stephen  and 
acted  with  Cyprian,  t  Firmilianus,  bishop  of  Csesarea, 
followed  his  example,  and  protested  with  great  vehe- 
mence, not  only  against  Stephen's  opinion,  which  he 
refuted  on  grounds  analogous  to  those  advanced  by 
Cyprian,  but  also  against  his  pretensions  to  authority 
altogether.  He  reminds  him  that  in  spite  of  Victor's 
attempt  to  compel  all  the  Churches  to  observe  Easter 
in  the  same  manner,  the  Christian  East  had  adhered  to 
its  own  practice  without  any  violation  of  the  unity  of 
the  Church.  If  it  is  true  that  Jesus  Christ  founded  His 
Church  upon  the  Apostle  Peter,  it  was  certainly  not 
upon  him  personally,  but  upon  his  faithful  testimony. 
Stephen  vainly  boasts  of  being  Peter's  successor,  while 
he  brings  into  the  edifice  other  than  the  true,  living 
stones.  "  Let  us  join,"  he  says,  "  truth  to  tradition, 
and  against  the  tradition  of  the  Romans  let  us  set  the 
true  tradition  —  that  of  Christ  and  His  apostles."  ^ 
Firmilianus  rises  into  a  very  transport  of  rage  when  he 
says  to  Stephen,  "  The  false  witness  shall  not  go  un- 

*  Cyprian,  "  Ep."  70  and  72. 

t  "Dionysius  in  Cypriani  et  Africans  synodi  dogma  consentiens  de 
hrereticis  rebaptizandis. "  Hyeron.  "  De  viris  illustrib."  c.  69;  Dionys. 
"  Ep.  ad  Xyst. ;"  Elusebius,  vii.  5. 

I  "  Consuetudini  Ronianorum  consuetudinem  sed  veritatis  opponimus, 
ab  initio  hoc  tenentes  quod  a  Christo  et  ab  apostolis  traditum  est."  Cyprian, 
*'Ep."75,  19;  Ibid.  6,  16,  17. 


THE    QUESTION    OF   THE    BAPTISM    OF   HERETICS.    185 

punished.  Thou  art  worse  than  all  the  heretics.  Art 
thou  indignant  at  this  ?  See  then  thy  folly,  thou  who 
fearest  not  to  blame  those  who  are  contending  for  the 
truth  against  a  lie.  It  is  plain  that  he  who  is  lacking 
in  prudence  is  swift  to  wrath,  for  nothing  more  inclines 
to  passion  than  the  absence  of  wisdom  and  of  reason."* 

So  thought  the  great  bishops  of  the  third  century  on 
the  question  of  infallibility.  "  Let  us  admire,"  ironi- 
cally says  Firmilianus,  "  the  scrupulous  manner  in 
which  Stephen  fulfils  the  duty  of  humility  and  gentle- 
ness !  What  could  be  a  clearer  mark  of  these 
graces,  than  his  placing  himself  in  opposition  to  so 
many  bishops  all  over  the  w^orld,  and  breaking  the 
peace  with  them  all  on  various  pretexts  ?"  The  bishop 
of  Caesarea  does  not  hesitate  to  speak  of  his  colleague 
at  Rome  as  the  true  disturber  of  unity.  ''  How  can 
such  a  man,"  he  says,  "recognise  the  unity  of  the 
spiritual  body,  who  has  no  unity  in  his  own  soul,  but 
is  so  flighty,  fickle,  and  uncertain  ?  "t 

The  pretensions  of  the  bishop  of  Rome  were  further 
disallowed  on  another  point,  of  not  less  importance. 
Two  Spanish  bishops  had  been  deposed  as  Novatians  : 
their  places  had  been  regularly  filled.  In  their  eager 
desire  to  regain  their  sees,  they  appealed  to  the 
bishop  of  Rome,  who  at  once  espoused  their  cause. 
Cyprian  uttered  an  urgent  protest  against  this  right 
of  appeal  and  this  hasty  restoration.  He  insisted 
upon  the  moral   qualifications  which    alone  make   the 

*  "Nam  quod  imperitos  etiam  animosos  manifestum  est,  dum  per 
inopiam  consilii  et  sermonis  ad  iracuiidiam  facile  vertuntur."  Cyprian, 
"Ep."  78,  24. 

t  "  Apud  talem  potest  esse  unum  corpus  et  unus  spiritus  apud  quern 
fortasse  ipsa  anima  una  non  est  sic  lubrica  et  mobilis  et  incerta?"  Ibid. 
78,  25. 


l86  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

true  bishop.  Canonical  appointment,  in  his  view,  gives 
official  recognition  to  such  qualities,  but  cannot  be 
a  substitute  for  them  when  they  are  lacking.  His 
protest  w^as  supported  by  a  large  synod  held  at  Car- 
thage. The  bishop  of  Carthage  asked,  in  the  name 
of  his  colleagues,  by  what  right  discipline  and  the 
rules  of  episcopal  election  were  violated,  to  benefit 
men  unworthy  of  this  high  office,  and  whose  unwor- 
thiness  brought  reproach  on  the  Church.  What  value 
can  there  be  in  an  appeal  addressed  to  a  bishop  like 
Stephen, — ill-informed,  and  at  a  distance  from  the 
country  where  the  facts  have  transpired  on  which 
judgment  is  pronounced?*  Thus  the  independence  of 
the  Churches  was  triumphantly  vindicated  against  the 
assumptions  of  the  bishop  of  Rome. 

§  4.  Pr ogres  smade  by  the  Hierarchical  Party  on  the  Death 
of  Cyprian.     The  last  Councils  of  the  Third  Century. 

Through  all  the  long  and  complicated  struggles 
which  we  have  been  describing,  we  trace  the  distinct 
progress  of  the  hierarchical  idea.  Let  us  note  well 
its  constant  advances  ;  let  us  observe  it  as  it  rises  from 
the  dust  of  this  long  combat,  under  the  precise  form 
which  it  assumed  at  the  death  of  Cyprian,  and  which 
it  will  retain  till  the  era  of  the  great  Councils  and  the 
alliance  of  the  Church  with  the  Empire.  It  will  then 
receive  its  final  transformation  by  the  formal  recog- 
nition of  ecclesiastical  centralisation,  doubly  conse- 
crated by  the  primacy  of  the  bishop  of  Rome  and 
the    sovereign    authority  of  the  oecumenical    councils. 

*  "Basilides   Stephanum  collegam  nostrum  longe  positum  et  gestae  rei 
ac  veritatis  ignaruiii  fcfellit. "     Cyprian,  ''  Elp. "  67,  5. 


THE    LAST    COUNCILS    OF    THE    THIRD    CENTURY.     187 

Upon  these  two  points  alone  it  is  as  yet  imperfect,  for 
the  episcopate  is  already  raised  to  its  highest  elevation. 
It  will  even  be  constrained  to  restrict  its  power  in  the 
following  period,  that  it  may  take  the  place  assigned 
to  it  in  the  centralised  Catholic  Church.  Everything 
has  favoured  the  growth  of  the  hierarchical  idea. 
The  decline  of  the  pure  evangelical  doctrine  of  grace, 
— the  principle  and  pledge  of  the  equality  of  Chris- 
tians and  of  the  universal  priesthood  —  reintroduced 
the  reign  of  law  and  the  sacerdotal  class.  Sacra- 
mentarian  superstition  availing  itself  of  the  un- 
guarded raptures  of  mysticism,  and  changing  the 
eucharistic  meal  into  a  sacrifice,  tended  to  put  the 
Christian  priest  in  the  position  of  a  priest  of  the 
type  of  the  old  covenant.*  The  passion  for  unity, 
made  more  intense  by  the  reaction  against  schism, 
changes  the  idea  of  the  Church.  This  gradually 
ceases  to  be  regarded  as  a  spiritual  society,  requiring 
agreement  only  in  things  essential,  while  allowing 
perfect  freedom  of  thought  and  practice  on  secondary 
points.  It  becomes  an  institution,  a  mother  Church, 
identified  with  an  organisation  which  has  a  growing 
tendency  to  assume  fixed  and  rigid  forms.t  Cyprian's 
treatise  on  the  unity  of  the  Church,  of  which  we 
have  spoken  in  our  summary  of  his  theological  views, 
gives  us  the  most  exact  expression  of  this  ecclesias- 
tical theory,  which  substitutes  uniformity  for  unity, 
and  excludes  from  a  petrified  Catholicism  many  of  the 
diversities  which  the  Church  of  the  second  century 
tolerated   without    hesitation.      The    episcopal    power 

*  The  Lord's  Supper  is  spoken  of  by  Cyprian  as  "  Sacrificium  Domini- 
cum"  ("Ep."  63,  9),  or  as  an  offering,  "oblatio."  "  Ep."  I,  2;  Ibid. 
12,  2.     See  Ritschl,  "  Altcathol.  Kirche,"  p.  561.  t  Ibid.  p.  566. 


l88  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

came  forth  with  new  strength  from  every  conflict, 
thou^-i  it  had  often  a  strong  body  of  opposition  to 
overcome,  and  had  to  do  battle  with  most  illustrious 
teachers  and  eminent  saints.  At  Alexandria  it  se- 
cured, under  Demetrius,  diocesan  supremacy.  At 
Rome,  in  consequence  of  the  stormy  controversies 
provoked  at  first  by  the  Montanists,  and  subsequently 
resumed,  with  more  moderation,  by  St.  Hippolytus, 
it  had  gained  possession  of  the  power  of  the  keys, 
— the  tremendous  right  of  pardoning  all  sins  by  virtue 
of  the  priestly  character.  The  development  of  the 
question  of  discipline  under  Cyprian,  his  twofold 
controversy,  on  the  one  hand  with  the  confessors 
who  carried  the  principle  of  indulgence  to  an  extreme, 
and  on  the  other  with  the  Novatians,  who  erred  no 
less  on  the  side  of  severity ;  all  these  vicissitudes 
of  this  great  episcopate  confirm  the  victory  won  at 
Rome  some  years  earlier  by  the  hierarchical  party, 
freeing  it  from  that  association  with  petty  passions 
and  unworthy  ambitions  by  which  it  was  at  first 
dishonoured.  By  his  successful  opposition  to  the 
imprudent  confessors,  who  would  have  exalted  their 
testimony  above  episcopal  authority,  Cyprian  con- 
firmed that  authority,  placed  it  beyond  dispute,  and 
established  the  principle  that  to  the  ecclesiastical 
office  belongs  the  last  -appeal,  and  that  not  even  pre- 
eminent holiness  may  prevail  against  it.  Let  us 
acknowledge,  however,  that  he  avoids  the  excess  into 
which  Callisthus  was  betrayed  in  his  famous  decree 
which  declared  the  bishop's  ofiice  to  be  irrevocable, 
even  when  mortal  sins  had  been  committed  by  those 
holding    it.       We    have    seen    that    Cyprian,    in    his 


THE    LAST    COUNCILS    OF    THE    THIRD    CENTURY.      ICQ 

polemics  against  the  apostate  bishops  of  Spain, 
maintained  that  moral  qualities  were  necessary  to 
the  exercise  of  the  offtce  of  a  bishop,  which  pos- 
sesses no  inherent  value  apart  from  such  qualities. 
He  thus  sacrificed  the  logic  of  the  hierarchical  sys- 
tem to  the  requirements  of  the  Christian  conscience. 

In  opposition  to  these  schismatics,  and  to  the  Nova- 
tians,  Cyprian  establishes  what  may  be  called  the 
episcopal  sovereignty,  so  vehemently  contested  by  his 
first  adversaries,  Novatus  and  Felicissimus.  He 
regards  the  bishop  as  the  successor  and  inheritor  of 
the  apostles/"  In  the  same  manner,  therefore,  as  the 
apostolate  found  its  centre  of  unity  in  Peter,  without 
his  exercising  any  parsonal  supremacy,  so  the  epis- 
copate has  its  centre  in  the  chair  of  the  successors 
of  Peter,  without  being  bound  to  recognise  in  it  any 
supreme  authority.  ''The  episcopate  is  one,  the  bishops 
are  equal."  t  They  are  all  lords  of  their  own  domain. 
As  priests,  presiding  at  the  eucharistic  sacrifice,  they 
are  the  supreme  judges  of  the  Church,  and  hold  in 
their  hands  the  keys  of  the  Divine  pardon.  Neverthe- 
less, they  should  do  nothing  without  their  clergy,  and 
without  the  consent  of  the  Christian  people  by  whom 
they  are  chosen.J  In  this  aspect  the  universal  priest- 
hood is  still,  in  some  measure,  recognised.  The  ec- 
clesiastical order  is,  however,  very  firmly  established, 
and  the  line  of  demarcation  between  the  laity  and  the 

*  "  Episcopos,  id  est  apostolos."     Cyprian,  "  Ep."  3,  3. 

+  "  Item  episcopatus  unus  episcoporum  raultorum  concordi  numerositate 
diff.isus."  Ibid.  55,  20.  "  Episcopatus  unus  est  cujus  singulis  in  solidum 
par,  tenetur."     "  De  Unit.  Cat."  5. 

I  "  A  primordio  episcopatus  mei  statuerim  nihil  sine  consilio  vestro  et 
sine  consensu  plebis,  mea  privatim  sententia  gerere."  Cyprian,  "Ep." 
14,  4.      "  Presbyteris  et  diaconis. " 


igO  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

clergy  is  drawn  with  the  utmost  exactness.  The 
hierarchy  ah*eady  consists  of  several  grades.  The 
Roman  clergy  in  the  middle  of  the  third  century  is 
a  considerable  body,  in  which  the  offices  are  multi- 
plied. It  comprehends,  beside  the  bishops,  priests, 
and  deacons  to  the  number  of  seven,  subdeacons, 
acolytes,  exorcists,  readers,  and  keepers  of  the  doors.* 
We  see  from  the  fragments  of  the  "  Apostolical 
Constitutions,"  which  date  from  the  first  half  of  the 
third  century,  how  widely  this  notion  of  the  episcopate 
had  spread  in  the  Church.  The  bishop,  in  the  second 
book  of  the  "  Apostolical  Constitutions,"  is  no  longer 
the  same  as  presented  to  us  in  the  eighth  book  of 
the  "  Coptic  Constitution,"  where  he  appears  without 
any  sacerdotal  character,  properly  so  called.  In  the 
later  representation,  he  is  at  onc.^  the  judge  who 
awards  the  Divine  favours,  and  who  possesses  directly 
the  power  of  the  keys;t  the  prophet,  who  is  the  voice 
of  God ;  X  and  the  priest,  who  presents  to  God  holy 
sacrifices. §  The  bishop  should  always  be  versed  in 
religious  knowledge.  He  must  possess  sufficient  to 
supply  his  needs  without  having  recourse  to  secular 
occupations.il  He  is  a  divine  being,  a  mediator  between 
God  and  men.^  He  cannot  be  judged  by  any.'"*  His 
clergy  form,"  with  himself,  the  senate  of  the  Church. ft 
Book  II.  of  the  "Apostolical  Constitutions"  seems  to 

*  Eusebius,  "  H.  E."  vi.  43. 

t  OtJrwf."    ^^  tKKXijrria  KuOa^ov   tov   Xoyor   7roioi'i/nvo£,   wg    ^Xovtriav    i^ioy 
Kpiveiv  Tovt;  I'ji^iaprrjKorag.      "Const.  Apost."  ii.  1 1. 

I  ^Ooyyoi  6'eo^'.      Ibid.  ii.  6. 

§  'lepug  TrapefTTuiTtg  ti(>  6v(tig<ttt)pim.      Ibid.  ii.  25. 

II  Ibid.  ii.  24. 

1[  'Qg  6  Ocog.      Ibid.  ii.  12.      Metrlrai  Oeou  kciI  tmv  marCJv  avrov.     Ibid. 
ii.  25.  **  Ibid.  ii.  35. 

ft  'S,v}'edpiov  Kal  (3ov\))  Tpjg  kKK\7]fTiag.      Ibid.  ii.  28. 


THE    LAST    COUNCILS    OF    THE    THIRD    CENTURY.    I9I 

represent  him  as  the  subject  of  a  sort  of  continuous 
inspiration  from  the  time  of  his  ordination.  Cyprian 
admits  nothing  of  the  kind,  since  he  speaks  repeatedly 
of  supernatural  communications  received  by  him  in 
visions,  and  not  in  virtue  of  his  office.  The  inter- 
polated passages  of  the  letters  of  Ignatius,  w^hich 
belong  to  the  same  period,  represent  the  episcopate 
as  the  true  vicariat  of  Christ,  apart  from  which  there 
is  no  salvation. 

The  "Apostolical  Constitutions"  of  this  date  admit, 
with  Cyprian,  the  equality  of  the  bishops,  and  ignore 
the  primacy  of  St.  Peter.  It  is  not  needful  to  multiply 
quotations  to  establish  this  independence  of  the  great 
Churches  one  of  another.  Without  recurring  to  the 
dispute  between  Cyprian  and  Stephen,  it  is  enough  to 
read  his  letters,  and  to  follow  him  in  his  ecclesiastical 
government,  in  order  to  discover  the  absence  of  any 
central  governing  power  in  the  Church  of  the  third 
century.  Each  bishop  is  a  pope  in  his  own  diocese ; 
he  bears  the  name  and  exercises  the  prerogatives  of  a 
pope  in  so  far  as  his  spiritual  family  will  recognise  the 
fatherly  relation.  We  read  of  the  pope  of  Alexandria, 
the  pope  of  Carthage,  as  well  as  the  pope  of  Rome." 
Cyprian  wrote  to  Rome  as  he  wrote  to  the  Churches 
of  Cappadocia,  or  to  his  colleagues  in  Africa.  "These 
letters,"  he  says,  "  I  have  sent  to  many  of  our  col- 
leagues, and  they  have  agreed  to  them,  and  have 
replied  to  me  that  they  would  continue  to  hold  our 
view  according  to  the  Catholic  faith. t 

*  "  Papam  Cypiianum."     Cyprian,  "  Ep."  8,  I. 

t  "  Qux  epistolas  jam  plurimis  collegis  nostris  missae  placuerunt,  et 
rescripsciunt  se  qiioque  nobiscum  in  eodem  consilio  secundum  catholicam 
fiaem  siare."     lb!d.  25. 


192  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH, 

The  relations  between  the  Churches  have  not  as 
yet  any  official  character.  This  mutual  independence 
is  explicitly  recognised  in  the  letter  written  to  Cyprian 
in  the  name  of  the  Church  of  Rome,  on  the  subject 
of  his  difference  with  the  African  confessors.  It  is 
true  that  the  letter  is  from  Novatian,  but  it  is  written 
before  his  schism,  and  while  he  still  speaks  as  priest 
and  representative  of  the  Church  of  the  capital  of  the 
empire.  ''  O  brother  Cyprian,"  he  writes,  "thou  hast 
indeed  our  approval  rather  than  our  formal  judgment  on 
this  case,  since  in  praising  the  acts  we  would  fain  share 
in  the  honour  they  merit ;  for  we  seem  ourselves  to  have 
done  that  which  has  had  so  fully  our  consent  as  regards 
both  censure  and  ecclesiastical  discipline.""  Subse- 
quently Cyprian  declares  that  he  had  recourse  to  the 
advice  of  Cornelius,  only  because  he  could  not  collect 
a  sufficient  number  of  votes  among  the  bishops  of 
Africa. t  He  treats  Stephen  as  his  colleague. J  He 
does  not  recognise  in  him  any  higher  power  than  his 
own,  and  it  is  by  the  same  title  that  he  holds  the  helm 
of  the  Church.  Cyprian  concerns  himself  about  matters 
in  Rome,  as  Stephen  about  those  in  Carthage.  The 
former  does  not  hesitate  to  make  an  inquiry  into  the 
election  of  the  latter.  We  have  seen  with  what  energy 
he  repudiates  any  pretension  to  the  primacy  on  the  part 
of  his  colleague  of  Rome.  These  results  are  beyond 
question ;  no  fictitious  documents  can  overthrow  them. 

The  authority  of  the  councils  is  as  yet  very  simple. 
In  the  synods  of  the  third  century  sit  bishops,  priests, 

*  "  Nos  non  tarn  judices  voluisti  quam  participes  inveniri."  Cyprian, 
"  Ep."  30,  I. 

t  "  Ac  si  minus  sufficiens  episcoporum  in  Africa  numerus  videbitur, 
etiam  Romam  super  hac  re  scripsimus, "  Ibid.  55,  5.  t  Ibid.  55,  7. 


THE    LAST    COUNCILS    OF    THE    THIRD    CENTURY.     193 

deacons,  confessors.  The  presence  of  the  laity  is 
in  almost  every  instance  distinctly  stated.*  The 
councils  are  always  free  assemblies,  convoked  when- 
ever any  necessity  arises,  without  fixed  date,  and  with- 
out subordination  of  one  to  another.  They  meet  when 
the  see  of  Rome  is  vacant,  no  less  than  when  it  is  occu- 
pied, for  they  do  not  acknowledge  in  any  way  its  supre- 
macy. They  claim  neither  exceptional  inspiration  nor 
infallible  authority. t 

The  letter  which  communicates  to  Stephen  the  de- 
liberations of  the  Council  of  Carthage,  held  on  the 
occasion  of  the  irregular  restoration  of  the  bishops  of 
Spain,  opens  thus : — "  We  have  thought  it  needful  to 
call  together  in  council  a  goodly  number  of  priests,  in 
order  to  take  certain  steps  and  to  deliberate  upon  them 
together.  We  have  discussed  and  determined  many 
questions,  but  we  have  resolved  to  write  to  thee  chiefly 
as  to  what  concerns  the  priestly  authority,  in  order  to 
confer  with  thy  high  wisdom.":}:  The  conclusion  of 
this  conciliatory  letter  is  not  less  remarkable  : — "  In 
this  matter  we  desire  to  do  no  violence  to  any,  and  to 
issue  no  commands,  for  every  bishop  has  the  right 
to  exercise  his  private  judgment  in  the  administration 
of  the  Church,  for  which  he  must  answer  to   God."§ 

*  "  Collatione  consiliorum  cum  episcopis,  presbyteris,  diaconibus,  con- 
fessoribus,  pariter  ac  stantibus  laicis."     Cyprian,  "  Ep."  55,  4, 

t  "  Sancto  spiritu  suggerente  et  Domino  per  visiones  multas  et  mani- 
festas  admonente. "     Ibid.  57,  6. 

I  "Ad  qusedam  disponenda  et  consilii  communis  examinatione  limanda 
necesse  habuimus,  irater  carissime,  convenientibus  in  unum  pluribus  sacerdo- 
tibus  cogere  et  celebrare  concilium.  In  quo  multa  quidem  prolata  atque 
transacta  sunt,  sed  de  eo  vel  maxime  tibi  scribendum  et  cum  tua  gravitate  ac 
sapientia  conferendum  fuit,  quod  magis  pertineat  et  ad  sacerdotalem  auctori- 
tatem  et  ad  ecclesige  catholicee  unitatem  pariter  ac  dignitatem."   Ibid.  72,  i. 

§  "Qua  in  re  nee  nos  vim  cuiquam  facimus  aut  legem  damns,  quando 
habeat  in  ecclesiae  administratione  voluntatis  suae  arbitrium  liberum 
unusquique  praepositus  rationem  actus  sui  Domino  redditurus."    Ibid,  72.  4, 

14 


194  THE    EARLY   CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

Could  anything  bear  less  resemblance  than  such  a 
declaration  to  the  authoritative  decisions  of  a  council 
which  deems  itself  infallible  ? 

This  liberalism  is  still  more  marked  in  the  acts  of 
the  Seventh  Council  of  Carthage.  Cyprian  there  ex- 
presses himself  in  these  terms  : — "  It  remains  for  us  each 
one  to  express  our  opinion  on  this  question  (the  baptism 
of  heretics)  without  using  any  constraint,  or  threatening 
excommunication  to  those  who  may  differ  from  us. 
None  of  us  regards  himself  as  the  bishop  of  bishops, 
nor  would  any  force  his  colleagues  to  obedience  by 
tyrannical  terrors.  Every  bishop,  in  truth,  will,  in 
the  latitude  of  his  liberty  and  power,  use  his  own 
free  judgment;  he  has  no  more  right  to  judge  his 
brother  than  to  be  judged  by  him.  Let  us  all  await 
the  judgment  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  who  alone  has 
the  power  to  commit  to  us  the  government  of  His 
Church  and  to  be  our  Judge."* 

The  sovereign  authority  in  the  councils  of  the  third 
century  is  holy  Scripture  alone.  This  is  constantly 
appealed  to,  and  its  power  is  expressly  recognised. 
*'  According  to  our  purpose,"  says  Cyprian,  "  when  the 
persecution  had  subsided,  and  it  was  possible  to  gather 
together  a  considerable  number  of  bishops  who  had 
been  kept  by  their  faith  and  by  the  protection  of  God 
from  any  defection,  we  assembled  ourselves  with  them 
in  council.  The  holy  Scriptures  were  placed  in  our 
midst,  to  decide  between  the  two  opinions,  and  we 
inquired  together  what  was  the  character  of  the  indul- 
gence permitted  by  the  Word  of  God."t    The  authority 

*  "Concil.  Carthag. "  vii. ;  Routh,  "  Reliq.  Sacrse."  iii.  115. 

t  *'  Scripturis  divinis  ex  utraque  parte  prolatis. "     Cyprian,  **Ep."  55,  S* 


THE    LAST    COUNCILS    OF   THE    THIRD    CENTURY.     I95 

of  apostolic  tradition  was  also  invoked,  but  far  less 
importance  was  attached  to  this  than  to  the  written 
tradition,  as  we  may  judge  from  the  fragments  of  the 
deliberations  which  have  come  down  to  us.* 

For  a  long  time  the  council  issued  no  summary 
condemnations.  Those  who  were  accused  of  heresy 
might  defend  themselves,  and  the  attempt  was  made  to 
lead  them  back  to  the  truth  by  free  conferences.  In  this 
way  Origen  succeeded,  at  a  synod  held  in  Arabia,  in 
turning  away  Beryllus  of  Bostra  from  his  errors. t 
He  was  equally  successful  on  a  second  mission  to  the 
heretics  of  the  same  country,  t 

Many  years  later,  Dionysius  of  Alexandria  had  the 
like  success  in  a  synod  held  in  an  obscure  suburb  of  the 
great  metropolis  of  Egypt,  to  decide  the  case  of  a  small 
millenarian  sect.  This  synod  rather  resembled  a  free 
conference  than  a  council.  We  may  judge,  from  what 
Dionysius  himself  relates  to  us,  how  little  resemblance 
it  bore  to  the  great  ecclesiastical  assizes  of  subsequent 
ages,  which  summoned  the  dissidents  to  their  bar  to 
receive  their  condemnation.  "  I  much  admired,"  he 
writes,  "  the  firmness,  love  of  truth,  and  clear  intel- 
ligence of  our  brethren.  All  was  moderation  and  order 
in  the  questions  and  replies,  and  in  the  assent  given. 
We  were  very  careful  not  to  appear  obstinate  in  our 
preconceived  opinions,  even  when  they  seemed  to  us 
clearly  right;  nor  would  we  elude  any  objection.  We 
endeavoured  to  go  back  as  far  as  possible  to  the 
principles   involved   in  the    discussion,  and  thoroughly 

"  Item  alius  Felix  a  Bamacurra  dixit :  Et  ego  ipse  sscutiis  divinarum 
scriplurarum  auctoritatem. '^  "  Concil.  Carthag. "  vii.;  Routh,  "  Reliq. 
SacrtTe,  ■'  iii.  123.  *  Ibid.  iii.  p.  104. 

t  Eusebius,  "H.  E."  vi.  33.  +  Ibid.  vi.  37. 

1.4.  * 


196  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

establish  them.  We  were  not  ashamed  to  retract 
what  we  had  said,  and  to  accept  the  opinions  of  our 
adversaries,  whenever  their  arguments  seemed  to  us 
really  forcible.*  On  the  contrary,  our  hearts  were 
open  before  God,  and  we  accepted  with  frankness 
and  candour  all  that  our  opponents  could  adduce  on 
good  evidence  and  on  the  teaching  of  Holy  Scripture." 
Three  very  important  synods  were  held  at  Antioch 
to  discuss  the  heresy  of  Paul  of  Samosata.f  The 
first  two,  which  met  between  264  and  269,  led  to  no 
result,  owing  to  the  subtlety  of  the  brilliant  bishop,  who 
unfolded  his  doctrine  with  infinite  art.  A  pressing 
letter  was  written  to  force  him  to  explain  himself.  It 
stated  succicntly  what  his  colleagues  in  the  episco- 
pate understood  by  the  Christian  faith.  This  rendered 
subterfuges  more  difficult,  t  At  the  third  council,  held  in 
269,  Paul  of  Samosata  was  forced  to  disclose  his  real 
meaning,  under  the  able  interrogation  of  the  presbyter 
Malchion,  which  made  further  evasion  impossible. §  He 
was  finally  condemned,  but  only  as  an  extreme  measure, 
and  after  he  had  been  fully  heard.  The  letter  from 
the  council  which  pronounces  his  condemnation  is 
addressed  to  the  Bishop  of  Alexandria  as  well  as  to 
the  Bishop  of  Rome,  and  the  council  asks  no  ratification 
of  its  sovereign  decision.  The  most  important  feature 
of  this  document  is  its  ecumenical  character,  for  it  is 
addressed  to  the  entire  Catholic  Church.  || 

*  M77re  d  Xoyoc  alpel  neTaTrelOioOai  Kai  avvoiioXoyHv  aldovfxsvoi.  Euse- 
bius,  "H.  E."  vii.  24. 

t  See  concerning  this  heresy,  "Early  Years  of  Christianity,"  vol.  iii. 
"Heresy  and  Christian  Doctrine,"  pp.  131-136. 

+  "Concil.  Edit.  Lubbsei,"  i.  845  ;  Routh,  "  Reliq.  Sacrae,"  p.  28;. 

§  Eusebius,  "  H.  E."  vii.  29. 

|l  UcKjg  -(1  i'TTo  Ti))'  orpavov  fcaOoXtfcy  tKK\7](rig:      Ibid.  vii.  30. 


THE    LAST    COUNCILS    OF    THE    THIRD    CENTURY.     I97 

The  bishops  assembled  at  Csesarea,  moreover,  took 
upon  themselves  the  responsibility  of  choosing  a 
successor  to  Paul  of  Samosata.  They  thus  infringed 
the  liberty  of  the  local  Church  by  assuming  the  position 
of  representatives  of  a  great  Catholic  unity.  The  in- 
novation was  undoubtedly  a  grave  one.  It  is  yet  more 
grievousto  see  these  men  who  were  persecuted  but  yester- 
day, and  might  be  proscribed  again  to-morrow,  calling  in 
the  aid  of  the  Emperor  Aurelian  against  the  refractory 
bishop  whom  they  were  seeking  to  depose.  It  is  thus 
that  the  hierarchical  party  falls  from  the  very  com- 
mencement of  its  career  into  one  of  the  most  perilous 
temptations  to  which  a  Church  can  be  exposed,  the 
temptation  to  forget  that  its  kingdom  is  not  of  this 
world,  and  to  have  recourse  to  an  alien  power.*  There 
is  still  however  a  vast  distance  between  the  pretensions 
thus  advanced  and  those  of  the  infallible  ecumenical 
and  papal  councils  of  later  ages.  The  system  of  the 
Romish  hierarchy  would  be  a  glaring  anachronism 
in  the  third  century.  To  pretend  that  this  system  has 
been  in  operation,  without  essential  modifications,  from 
the  commencement  of  the  Church's  history,  is  to  falsify 
all  its  true  archives.  Instead  of  fixed  and  unalterable 
institutions,  we  have  at  this  period  a  free  and  living 
Church  in  which  various  schools  at  first  subsist  side  by 
side,  then  come  into  conflict,  and  are  finally  crushed 
under  the  yoke  of  arbitrary  authority.  The  hierarchy 
cannot  trace  its  titles  back  to  this  noble  past,  although 
we  find  at  every  step  the  traces  of  its  early  usurpations 
and  progress.     The  time  is  at  hand  when,  allied  to  the 

*  AvprjXiavbv   tTreiaav  i'^eXacrai  TrJQ  tKKhjmag.      Theodoret,    "  Hseretic. 
Fabulas,"  ii.  8. 


198  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

empire  and  sustained  by  a  foreign  force,  it  may  advance 
without  fear. 

*  If  we  attempt  to  enumerate  the  principal  synods  of  the  third  century, 
we  arrive  at  the  following  results,  which  are  at  least  approximately  correct. 

1.  The  synod  convened  by  Agrippinus,  to  decide  the  question  of  the 
baptism  of  heretics  (Cyprian,  "Ep. "  71,  4;  Augustine,  '*De  Baptismo," 
c.  Donat.  lib.  ii.  71).  This  synod  must  have  been  held  after  the  year  205, 
since  at  that  time  Tertullian,  in  his  book  "  De  jejuniis,"  speaks  only  of  Greek 
synods.  The  date  220  appears  probable,  since,  according  to  the  "  Philoso- 
phoumena,"  the  question  of  the  baptism  of  heretics  only  arose  with  Callisthus, 
the  first  bishop  who  refused  to  rebaptise  them  (218-232). 

2.  Two  synods  held  at  Alexandria,  with  relation  to  Origen,  about  the  year 
231.     (Phot.  "Codex,"  118.) 

3.  Synod  of  Iconia  on  the  subject  of  the  baptism  of  heretics.  Firmilianus, 
who  writes  to  Cyprian  about  255,  speaks  of  having  taken  part  in  it  some 
long  time  previously  (Jam  pridem  in  Iconio  collect!  in  unum.  Cyprian,  "  Ep." 
75,  7),  probably  at  the  commencement  of  his  episcopate.  This  gives  us  the 
date  230, 

4.  Synod  on  the  same  subject  at  Synnada,  in  Phrygia,  according  toDionysius 
of  Alexandria.     (Eusebius,  *'*H.  E."vii.  7.) 

5.  Synod  of  Lambesitana,  a  colony  in  Numidia,  in  which  twenty-four 
bishops  sat,  and  which  dealt  with  a  certain  Bishop  Privatus,  accused  of 
hesesy. 

6.  Two  synods  in  Arabia,  in  which  Origen  wins  back  the  heretics.  (Euse- 
bius "H.E."  vi.  33-37.) 

7.  African  synod,  which  condemned  the  priest,  Geminius  Faustinus. 

8.  Synod  of  Carthage  (251),  on  the  occasion  of  the  schism.  (Cyprian, 
"Ep.,"57.) 

9.  Cornelius  holds  a  synod  in  Rome  on  the  same  subject.     (Eusebius, 

"H.E."vi.  43.) 

10.  In  May,  252,  another  synod  at  Carthage.  (Cyprian,  ''Ep."  64.) 
Subject:  Restoration  of  a  priest.     Baptism  of  children. 

11.  Another  synod  at  Carthage  on  the  question  of  some  Spanish  priests, 
who  had  been  wrongfidly  reinstated  by  the  Bi-hop  of  Rome.     (Ibid.  6"].) 

12.  First  synod  concerning  the  baptism  of  heretics,  in  255.     (Ibid.  70.) 

13.  Another  synod  in  256  on  the  same  subject.     ("  Ep."  72.) 

14.  The  synods  of  Ephesus  relating  to  Paul  of  Samosata, 
See  Haefele,  vol.  i. 


BOOK    SECOND. 

PRIVATE     AND     PUBLIC     WORSHIP     IN     THE 

CHURCHES   OF  THE  SECOND  AND 

THIRD    CENTURIES, 


BOOK  SECOND. 

PRIVATE     AND     PUBLIC     WORSHIP    IN     THE 
CHURCHES   OF  IHE   SECOND  AND 
THIRD    CENTURIES. 

CHAPTER  I. 

EARLIEST    CHANGES    IN    THE    FORM    OF    PRIMITIVE 
WORSHIP."^' 

It  is  an  instinct  of  religious  feeling  to  seek  for  itself 
solemn  and  public  expression,  not  only  in  word  or 
formula,  by  which  it  emerges  from  the  region  of  the 
purely  internal  and  mystical,  but  also  in  symbol,  by 
which  it  becomes  invested  with  a  tangible  form.  Man 
-is  a  complex  creature,  and  can  never  rest  in  that  which 

*  Our  authorities  on  all  that  relates  to  worship  in  the  second  and  thin 
centuries  are  : — 

1st.   The  Fathers  of  the  second  and  third  centuries,  from  whose  aulhen 
tic  documents  we  draw  exact  quotations  for  all  that  we  advance. 

2nd.  The   "Apostolical    Constitutions,"   consulted  with   judgment    and 
according  to  the  rules  already  indica  ed  in  a  previous  note. 

3rd.    The  liturgical  documents,  the  critical  value  of  which  we  shall  pre 
seiitly  examine. 

4th.  The  great  Church  histories  already  quoted. 

5ih.    Special  works,  and  primarily  Binjham's  book,  so  rich  in  documents 
"  Orig'nes  sive  antiquitates  ecclesiastics."  Oxford,  1868. 

Augutine,  "  Archceo'.ogia,"  3  vols.     Leipzis;,  1839. 

Buasen,  "  Hippolytus,"  2  vols.      "  Anteniccena,"  3  vols. 

Dr.  Ileinrich  Alt,  "  Der  Chri-,t!iche  Gottesdienst."     Berlin,  1851. 

Dr.  Harnack,  ■"  Der  Christliche  Gemeindegottesdienst  im  apostolischen 
unJ  altcatholischen  Zeita!ter."   Erlangen,  1854. 


20a  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

is  purely  ideal.  Just  as  the  soul  finds  in  its  bodily 
organisation  that  which  reveals  it  to  itself,  so  thought 
becomes  incarnate  in  expression ;  it  borrows  from 
nature  figurative  language,  which  is  a  perpetual  me- 
taphor. Its  familiar  use  makes  us  unconscious  of 
this  fact,  but  our  attention  only  needs  to  be  directed 
to  it,  and  we  discover  in  our  current  speech  all  the 
elements  of  plastic  poetry.  Art  discovers  this  hidden 
poetry,  and  embodies  in  exquisite  forms  those  thoughts 
and  sentiments  which,  by  their  peculiar  character  or  by 
their  intensity,  raise  us  above  the  level  of  common  life. 
What  art  gives  us  is  not  simply  an  ideal,  it  is  an  ideal 
drawn  from  life,  only  embodied  in  a  purified  form.  One 
of  its  distinctive  characters  is  to  reveal  the  ideal  to 
men,  or,  rather,  to  reanimate  the  ideal  in  their  own 
souls,  where  it  lay  in  a  slumber  akin  to  death,  till  roused 
to  behold  its  own  fair  image  in  some  immortal  work  of 
art.  High  art,  born  of  true  genius,  derives  its  power 
from  this  fact,  that  it  is  in  harmony  with  universal 
instincts,  that  it  lifts  these  out  of  their  misty  depths 
and  reveals  them  to  themselves,  thus  creating  a  com- 
munity of  souls,  which  is  one  of  the  noblest  manifesta- 
tions of  the  solidarity  of  the  race. 

That  which  is  true  of  art  is  no  less  true  of  worship. 
This  also  expresses  by  symbols  the  inmost  depths  of  the 
soul,  and,  by  this  very  manifestation,  calls  forth  a  com- 
munity of  feeling.  It  is  distinguishable  from  art,  pro- 
perly so-called,  by  the  limitation  of  its  sphere  and  by 
its  essentially  spiritual  character  :  it  makes  use  of  art, 
however,  as  the  fit  instrument  for  its  special  purpose. 
In  the  first  place,  worship  deals  exclusively  with  re- 
ligion, with  the  relation  of  man  to  God,  and  its  sym- 


CHANGES    IN    THE    FORM    OF    WORSHIP.  203 

boHsm  does  not  embrace  anything  which  has  not  this 
distinct  feature.  In  the  second  place,  worship  is  a 
recognition  in  act,  at  once  of  the  homage  due  to  God 
and  of  actual  union  with  Him  :  it  is  adoration  and 
offering.  Undoubtedly  religious  life  in  the  individual 
and  in  the  family  possesses  this  twofold  character;  but 
worship  is  distinguished  by  the  development  of  symbol- 
ism, which  gives  to  adoration  and  sacrifice  the  solemnity 
of  rites  observed  in  common,  bringing  as  it  were  to  a 
focus  all  the  scattered  rays.  Public  worship  is  like  the 
golden  cup  in  the  Revelation,  into  which  the  angels 
poured  the  prayers  of  the  saints.  It  brings  together 
that  which  elsewhere  is  dispersed,  and  by  this  very  fact 
produces  an  intenser  life. 

As  is  the  God,  so  is  the  worship.  In  the  religions  of 
nature  worship  simply  reproduces  by  symbolic  repre- 
sentations, gross  or  poetical,  the  life  of  the  god,  that 
is  to  say,  the  life  of  nature,  for  the  two  existences 
become  confounded.  There  is  the  perpetual  re- 
currence of  joyous  fertility  m  the  fine  season,  and 
following  it  the  cold  period  of  destruction  and  of 
death.  The  young  hero,  whether  Adonis  or  Osiris 
by  name,  who  only  appears  upon  the  enchanted 
scene  of  the  spring,  to  be  struck  down  by  the  fierce 
darts  of  the  burning  sun,  is  but  an  embodiment  of 
the  annals  of  the  year,  of  the  story  of  nature,  with  her 
regular  revolutions.  In  religions  of  this  order  the 
worship  is  ever  repeating  the  same  thing  in  its  sym- 
bolism, exhibiting  but  one  idea,  however  capricious 
and  varied  its  embellishments. 

We  know  well  that  the  human  soul  can  never  be 
perfectly    satisfied    with    this    puerile    mythology,    and 


204  1HE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

that  conscience  casts  its  great  shadow  over  it  all. 
The  heart  of  man  is  tormented  with  an  irrepressible 
alarm,  which  it  seeks  in  vain  on  every  hand  to  allay. 
Recognising  as  yet  no  higher  power  than  nature,  it 
appeals,  by  sorcery  or  magic  arts,  to  all  her  hidden 
forces  for  help,  or  else  has  recourse  to  abominable 
and  cruel  rites,  in  order  to  disarm  the  anger  of  the 
unknown  and  arbitrary  power  which  seems  to  rule 
its  destiny.  Greek  paganism,  which,  in  its  humani- 
tarian period,  absolutely  confounds  religion  with  art, 
finally  falls  back  into  this  naturalism  of  the  ancient 
East,  because  there  seems  more  hope  of  succour  in 
its  deeper  mystery,  and  because  it  gives  the  promise 
of  a  supernatural  deliverance,  of  which  the  graceful 
poetry  of  Olympus  held  out  no  hope.  Rome,  which 
was  her  own  divinity,  made  worship  only  a  dry  and 
soulless  ritualism,  which  sought  no  higher  good  than 
that  of  the  earthly  fatherland,  and  made  no  attempt 
to  fill  the  void  in  the  soul ;  hence  the  Latin  race 
became  the  sure  prey  of  the  lowest  superstitions  as 
soon  as  it  escaped  from  the  fierce  distractions  of  the 
conquest  of  the  world. 

Upon  the  soil  of  Judaea  worship  assumes  a  very 
different  character.  The  worshipper  of  Jehovah  comes 
into  the  immediate  presence  of  the  God  who  made  the 
world,  and  who  can  never,  in  the  mind  of  a  Jew,  be 
confounded  with  the  work  of  His  hands.  The  funda- 
mental idea  of  Judaism  is  holiness,  an  awful  holiness, 
which  makes  man  bow  in  trembling  self-abasement  be- 
fore it  lifts  him  up.  The  Jewish  worship  is  designed  to 
impress  deeply  upon  the  soul,  both  the  bitterness  of  a 
guilty  past  and  the  hope   of  a   glorious  future.      The 


CHANGES    IN    THE   FORM    OF   WORSHIP.  205 

sense  of  past  sin,  which  is  to  issue  in  a  great  cry  for 
expiation,  is  fostered  by  an  elaborate  ritual  of  puri- 
fying ceremonies  all  pointing  to  the  deep  defilement 
that  has  been  contracted,  and  by  bleeding  sacrifices 
constantly  repeated,  because  ever  insufficient.  The 
hope  is  fed  and  fanned  as  a  sacred  flame  by  pro- 
phecy, and  is  developed  in  worship  by  all  the  great 
types  pointing  to  Messiah.  The  Jewish  priesthood 
represents  this  double  character  of  the  Old  Testa- 
ment worship.  By  its  exclusive  functions  it  implies 
the  general  corruption  of  a  race  which  cannot  approach 
God  directly,  while  its  redemption  is  as  yet  unaccom- 
plished, and  which  has  need  of  mediators  apart  from 
itself  to  present  its  offerings.  For  the  same  reason 
both  the  day  and  the  place  of  worship  are  distinctly 
set  apart,  that  they  may  be  separate  from  the  general 
corruption. 

The  priesthood  is,  moreover,  a  living  prophecy  of  the 
ultimate  reconciliation  by  the  perfect  sacrifice.  Thus 
the  Jewish  worship  is  at  once  separative  and  figurative 
or  typical.  It  is  separative,  by  tracing  in  the  most 
marked  and  absolute  manner  the  hne  of  demarcation 
between  the  sacred  and  the  profane  ;  it  is  figurative,  by 
constantly  pointing  men's  eyes  onward,  through  all  its 
types,  to  the  great  realisations  of  the  future. 

It  is  easy  to  understand  how  widely  the  worship  of  the 
Christian  differs  in  its  essence  alike  from  that  of  Pagan 
or  Jew.  The  God  of  this  spiritual  worship  is  above  the 
world.  His  history,  or,  to  speak  more  properly,  the 
history  of  the  sovereign  manifestations  of  His  working, 
is  pre-eminently  spiritual ;  it  is  not  possible  to  repro- 
duce it  by  a  sort   of  scenic  symbolism,  as  the  facts-  of 


2C6  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

nature  were  reproduced  in  the  mysteries  of  Isis  or  of 
Ceres.  Moreover,  Christianity,  recognising  the  liberty 
and  power  of  God,  who  is  a  Spirit,  repudiates  all  confidence 
in  the  secret  forces  of  nature,  and  is  altogether  opposed 
to  magic  and  its  deceptive  arts.  The  complicated 
ritual  of  the  purely  national  paganism  of  Rome,  which 
makes  religion  a  thing  of  minute  observances,  is  no  less 
contrary  to  Christianity,  which  seeks  only  the  living 
and  spiritual  union  of  the  soul  with  God. 

More  nearly  related  to  Judaism,  which  was  the  direct 
preparation  for  it,  the  Christian  worship  nevertheless 
differs  from  it  in  most  essential  features.  It  could  not 
maintain  the  separative  character  of  Judaism  \Yithout 
belying  itself.  As  the  religion  which  proclaims  a  re- 
demption no  longer  promised  and  typified,  but  accom- 
plished, it  cannot  perpetuate  institutions  the  object  of 
which  was  to  awaken  and  sustain  in  man  the  sense  of 
his  condemnation  and  separation  from  God.  The  sys- 
tem which  brought  into  prominence  the  pollution  of 
man's  existence,  by  setting  apart  a  holy  place  for 
worship,  holy  days,  and  a  holy  caste,  must  needs  dis- 
appear when  the  Cross  had  wrought  a  full  redemption 
for  the  race,  and  the  great  reconciliation  was  no  longer 
a  promise  but  a  fact.  Comprehensiveness  is,  then,  an 
esential  element  of  Christian  worship.  In  its  second 
function,  as  a  figurative  and  typical  system,  "  the  sha- 
dow of  good  things  to  come,"  the  Jewish  worship  of 
necessity  becomes  obsolete  at  the  advent  of  Christianity. 

Redemption  no  longer  needs  to  be  prefigured  in  a 
symbolic  ritual  ;  it  is  an  accomplished  fact,  a  present 
reality,  to  be  apprehended  and  grasped  first  by  means 
of  teaching,  which  occupies  a  large  and  important  part 


CHANGES    IN    THE    FORM    OF    WORSHIP.  207 

in  this  dispensation  of  the  Spirit,  and  then  by  the  very 
act  of  worship.  The  material  sacrifice,  ever  incomplete, 
has  no  longer  any  place  in  Christian  worship.  The 
blood  of  bulls  and  of  goats,  which  was  prophetic  of  a 
nobler  sacrifice,  no  longer  flows  to  revive  the  longing 
for  purification,  and  to  render  it  more  intense  by  failing 
to  satisfy  it,  since  now  the  great  Offering  has  been 
made  once  for  all.  The  believing  soul  has  hencefor- 
ward nothing  to  do  but  to  appropriate  that  sacrifice, 
or  rather  to  identify  itself  by  a  true  and  spiritual  union 
with  that  sacred  Victim,  presenting  itself  a  living  sac- 
rifice. 

From  these  considerations  it  follows  further  that 
Christian  worship  cannot  be  either  the  celebration  of  a 
mystery,  or  a  magical  process  as  in  the  religion  of  na- 
ture, nor  a  formal  ritualism  as  at  Rome.  Nor  can  it 
consist,  like  the  Jewish  worship,  in  isolated  acts  of  the 
hfe,  distinct  and  exceptional,  nor  in  a  sacrifice  at  once 
material  and  typical.  As  the  expression  of  faith  in  a 
finished  redemption,  it  manifests  this  faith  by  word, 
and  by  very  simple  rites  which  bring  home  to  the  heart 
the  spiritual  reality.  Its  basis  is  teaching,  its  topstone 
is  prayer,  which  is  a  spiritual  sacrifice  no  less  than  an 
act  of  worship,  and  which  is  offered  sometimes  in  sing- 
ing, sometimes  in  supplication.  Prayer  is  the  soul  of 
the  sacram'ent,  which  gives  visible  form  and  consecra- 
tion to  the  spiritual  fact,  and  makes  it  to  the  worshipper 
intensely  real. 

Worship  thus  conceived  is  only  the  concentration  of 
the  habitual  religious  life ;  it  is  its  blossom,  its  con- 
densed expression  ;  but  the  one  draws  its  life  from  the 
other,  and  could  not  be  parted  from  it  without  falling 


208  THE   EARLY   CHRISTIAN    CHURCH, 

back  into  the  old  Jewish  system  of  separating  the  sacred 
and  the  profane.  It  has  no  fixed  forms :  while  its 
essential  principles  are  maintained,  it  matters  little 
what  may  be  the  diversities  of  Christian  symbolism, 
varying  with  the  age,  nationality,  and  degree  of  cul- 
ture. It  may  be  celebrated  within  the  humble  limits 
of  one  upper  room,  or  may  enrol  in  its  service  all  the 
appliances  of  high  art  in  a  brilliant  and  advanced  state 
of  civilisation;  provided  only  that  it  never  becomes  a 
divina  commediay  a  sort  of  scenic  travesty  of  the  gospel ; 
provided  that  it  never  degrades  itself  to  a  materialistic 
ritualism,  that  it  never  draws  again  the  old  line  of 
division  between  sacred  and  profane — as  if  the  piety 
of  one  day  could  stand  in  the  stead  of  every-day  holi- 
ness ;  never  re-establishes  a  priesthood  and  material 
sacrifice  —  vain  shadows  for  those  who  possess  the 
Divine  reality;  provided,  in  a  word,  that  the  worship 
be  not  pagan  nor  Jewish,  but  Christian. 

We  have  seen  that  Christian  worship  preserved  its 
character  of  high  spirituality  throughout  the  whole  of 
the  apostolic  age.  That  which  no  doubt  contributed  to 
its  maintenance  was  the  fact  that  the  Christian  Churches 
gathered  out  of  Judaism  never  separated  themselves  from 
the  worship  of  the  temple  till  the  time  of  its  overthrow 
at  the  siege  of  Jerusalem,  and  continued  to  observe  all 
the  customs  of  the  religion  of  their  fathers  with  its  solemn 
forms.  The  craving  for  an  artistic  symbolism,  which 
plays  an  important  part  in  the  worship,  especially  of 
Oriental  •  races,  thus  found  adequate  satisfaction,  and 
the  creation  of  new  forms  distinctively  Christian  was 
delayed.  The  Churches  of  the  Gentiles  were  in  open 
reaction    against    the    idolatrous    rites    of    paganism, 


CHANGES    IN    THE    FORM    OF    WORSHIP.  2O9 

and  were  more  disposed  to  dispense  with  ceremonies 
than  to  multiply  them.  It  would  be  unreasonable  then 
to  seek,  in  the  Christianity  of  the  first  century,  a  perfect 
type  of  worship  which  should  be  binding  on  the  Church 
of  the  future.  We  are  bound  to  recognise  the  excep- 
tional conditions  which  hindered  any  development  of 
ritual.  The  Church  of  later  days  was  free  to  modify 
and  to  multiply  the  observances  of  the  primitive  Church, 
provided  only  she  adhered  to  the  true  spirit  of  its 
worship. 

That  which  strikes  us  in  this  primitive  worship  is  the 
marvellous  boldness  of  its  spirituality.  It  is  not  limited 
by  any  outward  conditions  of  time,  place,  or  form.  It 
is  the  spontaneous  expression  of  the  religious  life  in  its 
continuit}^  Luke  gives  us  some  idea  of  this  when  he 
says  of  the  Christians  at  Jerusalem  that  they  "  con- 
tinued in  the  apostles'  doctrine  and  fellowship,  and  in 
breaking  of  bread  and  in  prayers."  *  The  teaching  of 
the  apostles  might  be  heard  at  any  hour,  in  the  public 
squares,  in  the  temple,  or  in  the  upper  chamber — that 
humble  sanctuary  of  the  new-born  Church.  Prayers,  fer- 
vent and  free,  rose  as  the  voice  of  the  whole  assembly, 
in  times  of  danger,  dread,  or  deliverance. 

The  reality  of  the  Christian  brotherhood  was  mani- 
fested by  the  community  of  goods  and  by  the  free-will 
offerings  laid  at  the  feet  of  the  apostles,  in  order  that 
the  abundance  of  the  rich  might  cover  the  needs  of  the 
poor.  Every  Christian  house  was  a  place  of  worship, 
every  meal  rose  to  the  elevation  of  a  Christian  sacra- 
ment. Whenever  bread  was  broken,  there  was  remem- 
brance of  the  broken  body  of  the  great  Sacrifice,    and 

*  Acts  ii.  42. 


2IO  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

the  song  of  thanksgiving.  The  Chiistian  worship  thus 
blended  with  the  entire  Hfe,  transforming  and  purifying 
the  whole.  The  ordinary  was  lifted  to  the  level  of  the 
sublime,  while  the  Church  thus  pitched  her  tent  upon 
the  Mount  of  Transfiguration. 

The  Christian  Churches  composed  of  Gentile  converts 
exhibited  the  same  great  features  as  the  Church  of  Jeru- 
salem, but  as  they  were  completely  set  free  from  Jewish 
ritual,  and  were  consequently  obliged  to  find  the  satisfac- 
tion of  all  their  needs  in  their  own  worship,  this  naturally 
assumed  with  them  a  more  complete  organisation.  This 
15  manifest  from  the  letters  of  Paul  to  the  Christians  of 
Corinth  and  Thessalonica,  who  were  tempted  to  indulge 
in  a  life  of  religious  ecstasy.  The  fundamental  prin- 
ciple of  the  Christian  life  is  liberty.  "  Where  the  Spirit 
of  the  Lord  is,  there  is  liberty."  *  But  this  liberty  is  a 
very  different  thing  from  license.  All  things  must  be 
done  "  decently  and  in  order."  f  The  apostle  would 
not  have  this  sacred  liberty  made  by  any  the  pretext  for 
the  indulgence  of  spiritual  vagaries  under  the  name  of 
inspiration.  Yet  he  would  have  absolute  freedom  in 
the  service  of  God.  No  day,  no  place,  no  act  of  ordi- 
nary life  should  be  excluded  from  it.  No  one  may  be 
condemned  for  observing  a  feast  day  or  a  Sabbath.  X 
The  simplest  acts  may  receive  a  sacred  character. 
Whether  men  eat,  or  drink,  or  whatever  they  do,  it  may 
be  done  to  the  glory  of  God  and  with  thanksgiving, 
thus  making  a  Eucharist  of  every  meal.  Worship  is 
celebrated  sometimes  at  the  river-side,  as  at  Philippi ; 
sometimes  on  the  sea-shore,  as  at  Miletus  ;  sometimes 
in  a  Christian  house  or  in  a  school  of  rhetoric,  as  at 
Corinth.     The  nam.e  Church  is  never  given   to  a  build- 

*  2  Cor.  iii.  17.  +1  Cor.  xiv.  40.  I  Col.  ii,  16. 


CHANGES    IN    THE    FORM    OF    WORSHIP.  211 

ing  ;  it  always  designates  a  society  of  Christian  souls, 
who  build  up  the  spiritual  temple  of  which  they  are  the 
living  stones.  Every  believer  is  himself  a  sanctuary  of 
the  Spirit.  This  is  the  true  house  of  God,  unrivalled 
in  beauty  by  the  grandest  cathedral.*  There  is  perfect 
liberty  of  teaching,  for  each  one  has  the  right  to  lift  up 
his  voice  for  the  glory  of  God,  only  being  careful  not  to 
violate  good  order,  and  to  recognise  the  sovereignty  of 
God  in  the  distribution  of  various  gifts  for  the  edifica- 
tion of  the  Church.!  There  is  equal  freedom  in  the 
service  of  song  and  of  prayer.  If  any  one  has  a  prayer 
or  a  psalm,  let  him  speak.  I  The  president  of  the  as- 
sembly must  be  very  careful  not  to  quench  the  Spirit. § 
The  celebration  of  the  Lord's  Supper  underwent  a 
gradual  change.  It  ceased  to  be  the  accompaniment  of 
every  meal,  and  became  especially  associated  with  the 
Agape,  which  was  the  evening  meal  supplied  by  the  vo- 
luntary gifts  of  the  Church,  at  which  all  the  Christians, 
poor  and  rich,  assembled.  The  Lord's  Supper  concluded 
this  repast  of  the  brotherhood,  bringing  to  mind  the  great 
sacrifice  of  love.  ||  The  Church  presents  herself  to  God  in 
prayer  as  a  living  sacrifice.  Everything  is  spiritual  and 
real  in  this  crowning  act  of  the  Christian  life,  which 
has  no  analogy  with  the  imperfect  sacrifices  of  the  Old 
Covenant.  It  is  no  repetition  of  that  which  was  con- 
summated on  the  cross.  A  perfect  sacrifice  has  been 
offered  once  for  all,  according  to  the  powerful  utterances 
of  the  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews,  in  which  there  breathes  the 
purest  spirit  of  primitive  Christianity.^     The  Christian 

*  Eph.  ii.  20-22;  I  Cor.  iii.  16;   I  Peter  ii.  5.  t  i  Cor.  xiv.  31. 

I  Ibid.  xiv.  26.  §  I  Thess.  v.  19.  \]  I  Cor.  xi.  20,  23. 

H  Heb.  X.  II,  15. 


212  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

soul  is  at  once  the  temple,  the  altar,  and  the  sacrifice  :" 
it  presents  itself  to  God  at  ail  times  and  in  all  places, 
and  the  free  and  spiritual  worship  we  have  described  is 
but  the  concentrated  and  solemn  expression  of  the  piety 
of  every  day. 

We  have  shown  in  the  earlier  part  of  this  history 
that  an  important  change  was  introduced  into  Christian 
worship  at  the  commencement  of  the  second  century. 
This  change  was  due  mainly  to  the  decree  by  which 
Pliny  the  Younger,  during  his  proconsulate  of  Bithynia, 
prohibited  the  Christians  from  anything  at  all  resembling 
those  secret  associations  which  the  Roman  authority 
everywhere  sternly  proscribed  as  a  public  danger. t 
The  Church,  in  consequence  of  this  prohibition,  ceased 
to  celebrate  the  Lord's  Supper  at  the  close  of  the 
evening  meal,  and  thus  its  connection  was  broken  with 
the  Agape,  of  which  it  had  till  then  been  the  comple- 
ment. The  Eucharist  was  transferred  to  the  morning 
service,  of  which  it  became  an  integral  part,  the  centre 
and  the  crown.  It  lost  something  of  its  primitive 
simplicity,  for  it  ceased  to  recal  so  directly  the  supper 
of  the  Lord,  and  became  the  true  Christian  mystery  in 
the  lofty  and  profound  sense  of  that  word.  We  gather 
also  from  Pliny's  letter  that  public  worship  had  now 
assumed  a  more  distinct  and  solemn  character  than  at 
first,  when  it  scarcely  differed  from  the  devotions  in  the 
home.  It  was  nov/  regulated  with  more  care  in  the 
order  of  service,  which  consisted  of  the  reading  of  the 
Scriptures   and  teaching,  alternated  with  hymns,  and 

*  Rom.  XV.  i6;  i  Peter  ii.  5.  See  the  fuller  description  of  Christian 
worship,  in  Vol.  i.  of  this  History.     "  The  Apostolic  Age,"  pp.    329-334. 

t  "Secundum  mandata  tua  Hetserias  esse  vetueram."  Pliny,  "Ep." 
lib.  X,  c.  97. 


CHANGES    IN    THE    FORM    OF   WORSHIP.  213 

concluding  with  the  Lord's  Supper.  Although  there 
were  devotions  every  day  in  the  early  morning,  the 
Sunday  w^orship  seems  to  have  been  marked  by  peculiar 
"solemnity.  It  still,  however,  long  preserved  the  essen- 
tial features  to  which  it  owed  its  high  spirituality. 
These  were  not  materially  altered  till  the  close  of  the 
following  century. 

In  the  first  place,  it  remained  faithful  through  the 
whole  of  this  period  to  that  great  principle  of  univer- 
salism  which  was  in  marked  contrast  to  the  Jewish 
separatism,  and  which,  regarding  the  whole  Church  as 
a  people  of  priests  and  kings,  made  the  whole  life  one 
unbroken  act  of  service  to  God.  As  we  have  seen  that 
in  the  ecclesiastical  organisation,  the  bishop  or  priest 
was  content  to  represent  the  community  without  claim- 
ing for  himself  any  peculiar  character  which  should 
separate  him  from  his  brethren,  so  public  worship  is 
as  yet  but  the  simple  concentration  of  daily  and  homely 
piety.  Sunday,  as  the  first  day  of  the  week,  inaugu- 
rates and  represents  all  the  rest,  without  claiming  any 
peculiar  inherent  sanctity.  The  house  of  prayer  is  only 
the  sanctuary  of  the  home  enlarged  so  as  to  contain  the 
whole  Christian  assembly.  The  symbolical  element 
receives  a  fuller  development,  and  rises  to  true  poetical 
beauty  in  the  sacrament  of  baptism ;  but  the  thing 
signified  is  never  lost  in  the  sign,  the  true  idea  radiates 
through  the  transparent  medium.  Especial  care  is 
taken  not  to  transform  the  simple  ceremonial  of  Christian 
worship  into  a  sort  of  magic,  which  is  nothing  better 
than  a  pietistic  materialism.  The  supernatural  order, 
which  has  its  highest  manifestation  in  the  sacrament 
of   the  Lord's   Supper,   is  closely  associated   with   the 


214  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

natural ;  grace  and  nature  seem  here  to  meet  and  melt 
into  each  other.  The  bread  and  the  wine  of  the  Eucharist 
are  at  once  the  first-fruits  of  creation,  the  pledges  of 
the  creative  love  which  bestows  on  man  the  good  things 
of  the  earth,  and  the  sacred  types  of  redeeming  love,  the 
emblems  of  the  broken  body  and  shed  blood  of  Christ. 
Thus,  in  the  Lord's  Supper,  the  elements  of  creation 
appear  to  us  sanctified  and  purified,  as  in  normal  piety 
the  natural  life  is  raised  from  its  defilement  and  con- 
demnation. The  dualism  which  characterises  all  false 
religions,  because  of  their  powerlessness  to  overcome  the 
evil  in  nature  and  to  infuse  into  it  a  Divine  life,  thus 
finds  no  place  in  the  Eucharist  any  more  than  in  any 
other  part  of  the  worship  of  the  Church.  Nowhere  do 
we  find  a  trenchant  opposition  between  the  sacred  and 
the  profane,  between  nature  and  grace,  not  even  in  the 
solemn  hours  of  worship.  Hence  the  eucharistic  prayer 
never  fails,  as  we  shall  show,  to  unite  in  one  act  of 
thanksgiving  both  the  natural  and  supernatural  gifts 
of  God  —  the  bountiful  providence  which  makes  the 
harvest  ripen,  and  the  gracious  forgiveness  with  which 
the  prodigal  is  welcomed  home. 

The  more  closely  purified  nature  and  the  order  of 
grace  are  associated,  the  more  marked  will  be  the 
contrast  between  unregenerate  nature  and  the  Church. 
While  the  Church  remained  faithful  to  her  true  prin- 
ciples, she  excluded  from  her  midst  by  a  firm  discipline 
the  unbelievers  who  accepted  neither  her  doctrine  nor 
lier  morality.  The  convenient  system  which  opens  the 
doors  of  the  Church  unconditionally  to  a  worldly  and 
impenitent  crowd,  is  as  contrary  to  the  true  spirit  of 
Christianity   as    is    the    separatism    which    makes   the 


CHANGES    IN    THE    FORM    OF   WORSHIP,  215 

religious  life  an  exception,  a  class  privilege.  The 
Church  not  only  protected  herself  against  the  intrusion 
of  a  mixed  multitude  by  the  severity  of  the  discipline 
which  w^as  exercised  towards  new  converts  and  those 
who  had  proved  themselves  deceivers  or  self-deceived, 
but  also  by  the  care  with  which  she  guarded  her  worship 
from  all  profanation.  Even  at  the  time  when  the 
Eucharist  was  still  celebrated  in  public,  the  Church 
strictly  excluded  from  participation,  all  who  had  not 
given  the  most  solemn  pledges  of  their  faith.  She  did 
not  long  remain  content  with  these  precautions,  and 
from  the  close  of  the  second  century  we  find  that  after 
the  first  part  of  the  service,  not  only  the  unworthy  and 
the  impenitent,  but  also  the  catechumens  who  were 
preparing  for  Church  membership,  were  required  to 
leave  the  sanctuary.  Holy  things  for  the  holy  :  such  is 
the  inflexible  rule  of  Christian  worship  in  this  age  of 
fervent  spirituality.  So  far  from  there  being  any  con- 
tradiction between  the  breadth  of  spirit  on  which  we 
have  dwelt  and  these  severe  restrictions,  this  apparent 
narrowness  is  the  very  condition  of  the  stalwart  spirit- 
uality which  requires  the  concentration  of  the  whole 
life,  not  merely  the  performance  of  exceptional  and 
isolated  acts.  Christianity  can  only  abolish  the  distinc- 
tion between  the  sacred  and  the  profane,  when  it  has 
already  consecrated  the  entire  life.  Worship  can  only 
be  the  epitome  of  a  life  which  is  itself  holy.  As  soon 
as  unconverted  multitudes  are  admitted  into  the  Church, 
worship  becomes  of  necessity  more  and  more  separate 
from  ordinary  life,  and  assumes  an  exceptional  cha- 
racter. The  restoration  of  sacred  days,  holy  places, 
and  an  august  ceremonial,  is  but   another  step  in  the 


2l6  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

same  direction.  There  is  no  other  way  in  which  the 
Church  can  preserve  its  spirituahty  than  by  being 
severely  exclusive  towards  all  that  is  opposed  to  its 
true  life. 

We  must  call  attention  to  one  more  trait  character- 
istic of  this  great  era  ;  we  refer  to  the  absence  of  an 
elaborate  and  inflexible  ritual — the  freedom  of  the  order 
of  service.  This  is  not  left  indeed  to  mere  caprice,  its 
outline  is  firmly  drawn,  but  there  is  as  yet  no  imposition 
of  exact  formularies  and  invariable  liturgies.  Prayer 
preserves  its  spontaneity,  free  expression  is  allowed  to 
the  aspirations  of  the  Christian  soul.  It  is  only  later 
that  this  free  utterance  becomes  fettered.  It  is  a 
patent  fact  that  the  progress  of  liturgical  worship  has 
coincided  with  that  of  the  hierarchy. 


217 


CHAPTER  IL 

WORSHIP    IN    THE    HOME. 

In  the  true  conception  of  Christian  worship  as  we  have 
endeavoured  to  represent  it,  domestic  piety  holds  a  place 
of  primary  importance,  for  it  is  the  condition,  the  basis 
of  public  worship,  which  is  intended  not  to  be  a  substi- 
tute for  it,  but  only  to  give  it  fuller  expression.  Like 
the  stream  which  receives  into  its  broad  bosom  all  the 
rivulets  from  the  hills,  so  public  worship  blends  in  one 
common  adoration  all  the  highest  aspirations  of  separate 
souls.  Every  Christian  solemnity  which  does  not  carry 
out  this  idea  is  a  delusion,  and  its  certain  result  will  be 
to  lend  a  fictitious  character  to  the  religious  life  itself. 
If  then  we  would  estimate  at  its  true  value  the  worship 
of  the  Church  in  the  second  and  third  centuries,  we 
must  make  ourselves  familiar  with  the  home  life  of  the 
Christians  of  that  day,  and  ascertain  how  their  religion 
entered  into  their  domestic  habits. 

It  is  certain,  in  the  first  place,  that  private  worship 
was  no  more  a  thing  apart  from  everyday  life,  than 
public  worship  was  divorced  from  domestic  piety.  The 
whole  life  of  the  Christian  was  consecrated  by  private 
devotion,  as  this  in  its  turn  found  its  strength  renewed 
and  concentrated  by  united  worship.  The  service  of 
God   comprehended  all  the  hours  and  sanctified  all  the 


2l8  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

occupations  of  a  various  and  busy  life,  and  the  moments 
devoted  specially  to  prayer  were  intended  merely  to 
sustain  the  inspiration  of  the  whole. 

The  essential  act  of  worship,  whether  public  or  pri- 
vate, is  prayer.  It  is  this  which  breaks  down  the 
barrier  between  heaven  and  earth,  and  by  bearing  our 
requests  and  longings,  our  worship  and  thanksgiving,  to 
God,  and  bringing  down  from  Him  all  the  gifts  neces- 
sary to  our  religious  life,  and  first  of  all  the  great  gift 
of  Himself,  makes  the  union  between  the  soul  and  God 
a  living  and  personal  reality.  The  Church  of  this  age 
had  a  true  estimate  of  the  privilege  of  prayer,  and  of 
the  holy  warfare  implied  in  it.  The  most  illustrious 
Christian  teachers — Origen,  Tertullian,  and  Cyprian — 
wrote  special  treatises  on  prayer.  They  give  us  an 
exalted  idea  of  it  in  its  primitive  simplicity,  as  the  cry 
of  the  Christian  soul  for  Divine  aid  for  itself  and  others. 
These  treatises  refer  for  the  most  part  to  private  and 
domestic  devotion.  The  prayers  of  the  Church  in 
which  we  find  the  first  traces  of  a  liturgy  which  as  yet 
was  compatible  with  much  liberty  of  utterance,  are 
treated  separately.  We  have  this  valuable  documentary 
authority  as  to  what  were  con  sidered  the  essential 
conditions  of  private  worship  in  Christian  homes. 

We  find,  first,  that  prayer  demands  the  concentration 
of  thought  upon  its  object.  *'  How  should  God  hear 
thee,  if  thou  hearest  not  thyself?  "  says  Cyprian.  Th^ 
priest  in  the  house,  like  the  priest  in  the  church,  must 
say  to  himself,  Sitrsicin  corda.'''  Prayer  has  shared  in 
that  great  change  which  characterises  all  worship  under 
the   New  Covenant.!      It   is    borne   upwards    into  the 

*  Cyprian,  "  De  orat.  dMnin."'c.  31.  +  Tertullian,  "  De  orat."  c.  I. 


WORSHIP    liN    THE    HOME.  219 

presence  of  God  Himself  by  the  heavenly  words  taught 
us  by  the  Master's  own  lips,  and  which  comprise  in  their 
sublime  simplicity  the  loftiest  conceptions.  Prayer  rises 
from  the  hidden  sanctuary  of  the  humble  cottage  made 
glorious  by  the  Divine  presence."'  Prayer  is  not  a  Mount 
of  Transfiguration,  to  be  climbed  only  at  certain  hours, 
while  for  the  rest  of  their  time  men  are  content  to  grovel 
in  the  dust  of  worldliness.  It  has  no  value  except  when 
it  is  the  condensed  expression  of  the  whole  life.  Hence 
the  importance  of  the  moral  attitude  of  the  soul  that 
comes  to  God  in  prayer.  Obedience  alone  can  make 
prayer  acceptable,  f  Now  the  first  commandment  of 
God  is  love.  Hence  Tertullian  says,  "  Do  we  suppose 
that  we  can  approach  the  God  of  peace  without  being 
ourselves  men  of  peace  ?  Can  we  ask  for  forgiveness 
of  sin  with  our  own  hearts  full  of  hatred  ?  How  can 
the  Father,  who  condemns  anger,  receive  us  if  He  sees 
us  full  of  spleen  against  our  brother  ?  It  is  not  only 
anger  that  the  Christian  man  should  abjure,  but  every- 
thing that  may  hinder  his  prayers.  He  should  breathe 
a  spirit  in  harmony  with  Him  into  whose  presence  He 
comes.  The  God  whose  Spirit  is  holiness  and  joy  and 
liberty,  cannot  receive  a  soul  defiled,  angry,  or  enslaved. 
Opposites  cannot  meet ;  without  sympathy  no  relation 
is  possible."  I  Cain  will  always  see  his  offering  rejected 
while  Abel's  is  accepted.  God  does  not  look  so  much 
at  the  offering  as  at  the  heart  that  brings  it.  §     It  is  in 

*  "Dei  omnipotentis  et  conspectum  auditum  sub  tectis  et  in  abditis. " 
Tertullian,  "  De  orat."  c.  I. 

t  "  Memoria  prseceptorum  viam  orationibus  sternit  ad  ccelum."  Ibid. 
10. 

I  "  Nemo  nisi  comparem  suum  admittat."     Ibid."  lo. 

§  "  Neque  munera,  sed  corda  Deus  intuebatur,"  Cyprian,  "  De  orat. 
domin."  24. 


220  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

truth  only  the  heart  He  asks.  Prayer  is  the  true  sacri- 
fice of  the  New  Covenant,  acceptable  whenever  it  rises 
from  a  loving  and  renewed  soul.  "  Here,"  says  Tertul- 
lian,  **  is  the  spiritual  offering  which  does  away  with 
the  ancient  sacrifices.'''  The  hour  is  come  when  God  is 
worshipped  in  spirit  and  in  truth,  for  He  is  a  Spirit, 
and  seeketh  such  to  worship  Him.  We  who  worship 
Him  in  spirit,  and  offer  Him  the  praj^er  which  He  Him- 
self has  chosen  and  appointed,  we  are  His  true 
worshippers,  His  true  priests.  The  prayer  which  rises 
from  a  fervent  heart,  a  prayer  which  is  sustained  by 
faith  and  purified  by  the  truth,  ascends  innocent  and 
pure  ;  love  crowns  it,  good  works  form  its  triumphant 
escort  to  the  altar  of  God,  where  it  is  sure  to  find  full 
acceptance."!  It  is  impossible  to  measure  its  power. 
It  was  prayer  like  this  which  quenched  the  fire  into 
which  the  three  Hebrews  had  been  thrown,  stopped  the 
mouths  of  lions,  brought  food  from  heaven  for  the 
famished,  made  the  plenteous  rain  descend  from  skies 
of  brass,  put  to  flight  armies  of  aliens  ;  and  above  all 
made  the  Christian  strong  to  bear  trials  of  cruel  mock- 
ings,  imprisonment,  and  death,  for  the  name  of  his  God. 
Rising  to  a  yet  sublimer  sphere,  prayer  disarms  the 
righteous  wrath  of  God,  and  covers  as  with  a  shield 
even  the  persecutors  of  the  Church,  for  prayer  alone  can 
conquer  God.  |  Christ  has  given  to  prayer  no  power  for 
evil,  but  He  has  made  it  almighty  for  good ;  hence  its 
blessed  function  is  to  dispense  consolation  and  salvation, 
to  repel  temptation,  to  sustain  the  weak,  to  feed   the 

*  "  Heec  est  enim  hostia  spiiitalis,  quce  pristina  sacrificia  delevit."     Ter- 
tullian,  "  De  oiat."  23.  t  Ibid, 

t  "  Sola  est  oratio  qu^e  Deum  vincit."     Ibid.  24. 


WORSHIP    IN    THE    HOME.  221 

poor,  to  abase  the  rich,  to  raise  the  fallen,  to  give 
firmness  to  the  wavering,  and  to  strengthen  such  as  do 
stand.  Prayer  is  the  wall  of  faith  and  the  armour  of 
the  Christian  against  his  deadly  foe.  Let  us  never  lay 
aside  this  panoply,  and  let  us  guard  the  standard  of  our 
captain  under  arms  of  prayer,  awaiting  the  trumpet  of 
the  angel."" 

We  see,  then,  how  the  efficacy  of  prayer  stands  in 
exact  relation  to  the  moral  life  of  the  Christian.  If  it  be 
not  the  solemn  expression  of  that  life,  it  is  of  no  more 
value  than  a  tinkling  cymbal.  According  to  Origen,  he 
prays  without  ceasing  who  closely  unites  both  working 
and  praying.  The  only  way  in  which  it  is  possible  to 
understand  the  apostolic  precept,  "  Pray  without  ceas- 
ing," is  to  regard  the  life  of  the  Christian  as  one  great 
act  of  continuous  prayer,  t  Prayer,  according  to 
Clement  of  Alexandria,  is  in  truth  life  with  God.  When 
we  only  move  our  lips,  or  even  when  without  the  lips 
our  soul  speak?  silently  to  God,  the  inarticulate  cry 
reaches  His  ear,  for  He  knows  afar  off  the  thought  of 
the  heart  that  is  yearning  after  Him.  I  Prayer  thus 
understood  is  not  limited  to  time  or  place,  still  less  to 
any  set  form  of  expression.  Wherever  the  Christian 
may  be,  walking  by  the  way  or  sitting  in  the  house,  in 
solitude  or  conversing  with  brethren,  reading,  working, 
or  resting,  he  ceases  not  to  pray.  It  is  enough  that  in 
the  secret  sanctuary  of  the  soul  his  thoughts  are  God- 
ward,   and  his   desires  reach  after    Him ;   the   Father 

*  Tertullian,  "  De  orat."  24.  f  Origen,  "  De  orat."  22. 

I  "E^sariv  ovv  jurjSe  (p(x)vy  rrjv  ev\^v  TrapaTrsfiirnv,  fiSvov  d'  tvdoOev. 
Clement  of  Alexandria,  '•  Strom."  vii.  7,  43.  "Erriv  ovv  log  eiTreiv 
ToXurjpoTEpov  ()/uiXia  irpoQ  rbv  Oedv  f/  (vx^-      Ibid.  39. 


222  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

who  seeth  in  secret  is  near,  and  anticipates  his  re- 
quest.* 

If  prayer  thus  conceived  is,  as  it  were,  the  grand 
harmony  of  the  Christian  soul,  the  key-note  of  the  reli- 
gious life,  it  is  no  less  necessary  that  it  iind  utterance 
in  distinct  petitions.  The  Lord's  Prayer  remains  for 
ever  the  one  perfect  model,  the  summary  of  the  whole 
gospel,  t  Hence  the  great  theologians  who  have  written 
on  prayer  have  delighted  to  dwell  upon  this  theme. 

They  regard  it  rather  as  an  outline  and  model  of 
what  daily  prayer  should  be,  than  as  a  sacred  formu- 
lary to  be  repeated  as  if  the  words  had  in  them  some 
magic  charm.  Undoubtedly  the  prayer  which  ad- 
dresses the  Father  in  the  very  words  of  his  own 
Son  must  be  peculiarly  dear  to  Him.  The  Master, 
who  foresaw  all  our  hum.an  needs,  ga.ve  us  in  the  Lord's 
l^rayer  an  example  of  the  manner  and  the  spirit  in 
which  we  might  make  known  to  God  all  the  petitions 
arising  out  of  the  varied  necessities  of  our  lives.!}: 

But  there  is  something  far  more  acceptable  to  God 
than  the  mere  repetition  of  any  number  of  "  Pater- 
nosters," namely,  the  translation  of  this  prayer  of  our 
Lord  into  the  daily  life  of  the  Christian,  "Let  us 
beware,"  said  the  great  Alexandrine,  "  of  thinking  that 
the  Master  intended  to  teach  us  to  repeat  certain  formu- 
laries of  prayer.  Let  us  rather  use  this  prayer,  '  Our 
Father  who  art  in  heaven,'  in  the  spirit  of  the  precept 
which  enjoins  us  to  pray  always.  This  we  shall  do  by 
leading  a  life  not  grovelling  on  the  earth,  but  reaching 
ever  heavenward,  and  by  becoming  ourselves  dwelling- 

*  Clement  of  Alexandria,  "  Strom."  vii.  7,  36. 
t  "  Breviarium  totius  Evangelii."     Tertull.  "Deorat."  i.         J  Ibid.  9. 


WORSHIP    IN    THE    HOME.  223 

places  of  God,  for  the  kingdom  of  God  is  set  up  in  all 
those  who  bear  the  image  of  the  Lord  from  heaver, 
;ind  who  thus  partake  His  nature.'"''  The  Church  in  the 
time  of  Cyprian  seems  to  have  attached  more  value  to 
the  exact  words  of  the  Lord's  Prayer.  "  Let  the 
Father,"  says  Cyprian,  "  recognise  the  words  of  His 
Son  when  we  pray."t  He  was  nevertheless  faithful  to 
the  spirit  of  his  glorious  predecessors  in  declaring  that 
the  Christian  can  pray  at  any  moment  and  in  any 
place.  "  God  has  specially  enjoined  on  us,"  he  says, 
"  to  pray  in  secret,  in  retired  places,  in  the  most  secluded 
corners  of  our  homes,  in  order  that  we  may  realise  the 
fact  of  His  universal  presence,  that  He  sees  and  hears 
each  one  of  us,  and  that  He  fills  with  the  fulness  of 
His  glory  the  darkest  place."!  The  reference  here  is 
clearly  to  private  worship  in  the  abode  of  the  Christian. 
Although  this  spiritual  worship  really  comprises  the 
entire  life,  it  is  very  needful  that  there  should  be  certain 
times  set  apart  for  prayer.  Jesus  Christ,  whose  holy 
life  was  ever  in  God,  yet  sought  solitude  every  day,  in 
order  to  pour  out  his  soul  in  prayer.  How  much  more 
necessary  must  such  retirement  be  for  the  disciple,  ac- 
cessible to  so  many  tem.ptations.  §  Prayer  must  open 
and  close  each  day.|i  Besides  this  morning  and  evening 
devotion,  three  hours  appear  to  have  been  specially  con- 
secrated to  prayer  in  the  course  of  the  day — the  third, 

*  M/}  \iBig  To'ivvv  vofumo/^ev  ^lOci'iKiadai  \tynv  ij^iaQ  tv  rivi  airoTETaj- 
fikvij}  Ti.  tvx^aQai  Kaipt^.  Hclq  rj/nojv  u  (Siog  dCiaXtnrrujg  Trpocrtvxofxevwv 
Xkyerio  to  iruTEp  I'lfjLuiv  6  tv  To7g  ovoavoXg.      Origen,  "  De  orat. ''  22. 

t  "  Agnoscat  pater  et  filii  sui  verba."     Cyprian,  "  De  orat.  domin."  3. 

\  "  In  cuhiculis  ipsis,  ut  sciamus  Deum  ubique  esse  prsesentem."  Cyprian, 
"  De  orat,  domin."  4. 

§  "  Ipse  fuit  secedens  in  solitudinem  et  adorans."     Ibid.  29. 

II  "  Mane  orandum  est,  reccdente  item  sole."     Ibid.  35. 


224  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

sixth,  and  ninth  hours."  These  were  ah'eady  pointed 
out  by  Old  Testament  tradition,  and  the  early  Christians 
connected  with  them  other  sacred  memories  of  gospel 
story.  It  was  at  the  third  hour  that  the  Pentecostal 
fire  had  fallen  upon  the  heads  of  the  worshippers  at 
Jerusalem.  It  was  at  the  sixth  hour  that  Peter  had 
been  honoured  at  Joppa  with  the  vision  which  had 
enlarged  his  ideas  of  the  introduction  of  Gentiles  into 
the  Church.  It  was  at  the  ninth  hour  that  he  and  John 
had  wrought  their  first  miracle  at  the  Beautiful  gate  of 
the  Temple. 

Towards  the  end  of  the  third  century  the  Church 
sought  to  associate  the  special  hours  of  prayer  with  the 
memories  of  the  Passion  of  the  Saviour ;  at  least  so 
we  gather  from  the  "  Apostolical  Constitutions."  First 
of  all,  the  faithful  are  exhorted  to  lift  up  their  souls  to 
God  on  waking,  to  prepare  themselves  thus  for  the  toil 
of  the  day.t  At  the  third  hour  let  them  pray,  for  then 
their  Master  was  stretched  on  the  accursed  tree.  The 
sixth  hour  recals  the  darkness  which  was  over  all  the 
earth  during  His  fearful  agony.  At  the  ninth  hour  His 
side  was  pierced  with  the  soldier's  spear.|  Prayer  must 
be  offered  again  before  seeking  rest  at  night.  §  The 
night  itself  is  not  to  be  passed  without  prayer.  "  Rise 
at  midnight  and  pray,  for  at  this  hour  all  creation  in 
silence  blesses  God."l|  There  is  a  sublime  prayer  for 
the  Christian  in  the  majestic  silence  of  the  starry 
night.    He  seems   to  hear  a  solemn  hymn  that  does  not 

*  Tertullian,  "  De  onit."  20. 

t  ritffroj  TTOiVTeg  iytpOivrig  rrpb  tov  tpyov  fTrirfXfrroj  TrpofmiXhadioaav. 
"Const.  Egypt."  ii.  57.  J  "Const.  Ec^ypt."  ii.  62.  §  Ibid. 

II  "On  tKHvy  Ty  iop(j,  iraaa  rj  KrloiQ  aiyq  (vXoyov(Ta  Oeor.  Ibid.  iloXXd^-ig 
Kcd  rf/c;  pvktuc  avtyeprtov  t))c  koiti^q  kcu  tov  Oeiu  evXoy7]-iov.  Clement 
of  Alexandria,  "Paedag. "  ii.  9,  79. 


WORSHIP    IN    THE    HOME.  225 

reach  the  outward  ear,  in  which  stars,  woods,  hills, 
angels,  and  redeemed  souls  all  unite  in  praising  God 
Almighty.  It  is  but  right  that  the  prayer  of  the  believ- 
ing heart  should  take  up  the  wondrous  chant.  Is  it  not 
at  midnight  that  the  Bridegroom's  voice  is  to  be  heard, 
calling  the  wise  virgins  to  the  marriage  of  the  great 
King  ?  Let  the  cock-crow  find  the  Christian  awake,  to 
bless  Him  who  rises  as  the  Sun  of  Righteousness  upon 
our  night,  and  to  pray  for  grace  that  he  may  not  imitate 
the  faithless  disciple  whose  treachery  is  for  ever  asso- 
ciated with  that  morning  call. 

Thus  does  the  Christian,  according  to  the  most 
ancient  precept  of  the  "Apostolical  Constitutions,"  make 
his  whole  life  a  memorial  of  Christ.''' 

A  certain  degree  of  importance  was  attached  to  the 
attitude  suitable  in  prayer.  It  was  not  permissible  to 
remain  seated.  The  most  frequent  practice  was  to 
kneel,  except  on  Sunday,  when  an  erect  position  was  pre- 
ferred, in  remembrance  of  the  resurrection  of  Christ.! 
The  hands  and  eyes  were  to  be  lifted  heavenward.  J  The 
numerous  Oranies  of  the  catacombs  give  us  a  vivid  re- 
presentation of  prayer  in  its  most  solemn  form.  The 
attitude,  however,  derives  its  value  entirely  from  the 
sentiment  it  is  intended  to  express.  "  Before  raising 
the  hands  and  eyes  to  heaven,"  says  Origen,  "the  soul 
must  be  directed  heavenward.  It  is  certain  that  of 
all  the  various  attitudes  of  the  body  the  most  becoming 
in  prayer  is  that  in  which  the  hands  and  eyes  are  lifted 

*  'Mvciav  TToiovvriQ  tov  Xftgrov  Travrore.     **  Const.  Apost."  ii.  62. 

t  "Die  dominico  jejunium  nefas  diicimus,  vel  de  geniculis  adoiare.*' 
Tertullian,  "Decor,  milit."  3. 

X  "Nos  vero  non  attoUimus  laulum,  sed  etiam  expandimiis  maims.'' 
Tertullian,  "  De  oral."  ii. 

16 


226  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

in  token  of  the  inward  uplifting  of  the  heart.  It  is 
well  to  conform  to  this  custom,  except  when  lawfully 
prevented,  as  by  sickness,  when  prayer  may  be  offered 
sitting  or  reclining.  There  are  also  other  circumstances 
which  may  arise,  in  travelling  for  example,  in  which  it 
may  not  be  possible  to  adopt  the  usual  posture,  and 
prayer  may  then  be  offered  without  any  outward  sign 
indicative  of  it.  Let  it  be  remembered  that  the  kneel- 
ing posture  enjoined  for  the  confession  of  sins  has  no 
other  value  than  as  a  symbol  of  a  humble  and  contrite 
heart. "^^  The  true  model  of  Christian  prayer  for  all  ages 
is  the  publican  of  the  parable  smiting  on  his  breast  and 
crying  for  pardon  to  the  God  whom  he  has  offended.!  It 
is  well  not  to  raise  the  voice  in  prayer,  but  to  be  satis- 
fied with  the  secret  language  of  a  penitent  heart,  like 
Hannah,  the  mother  of  Samuel.  Has  not  St.  Paul 
said  that  the  groanings  of  the  spirit  in  the  heart  of  the 
Christian  cannot  be  uttered  ?  God  hears  not  the  voice 
but  the  desire."! 

Reading  and  meditation  on  the  Scriptures  form  an 
important  part  of  private  worship.  Prayer  is  regarded 
as  the  key  which  unlocks  the  Divine  treasure.  "  Nothing 
is  more  necessary  than  prayer  for  the  right  understand- 
ing of  Divine  things,"  says  Origen  to  one  of  his  beloved 
disciples. § 

We  have  hitherto  been  considering  especially  indi- 
vidual prayer.  This  is  in  itself  sufficient  to  enlarge  the 
Christian  soul  and  to  raise  it  above  selfish  prejudices. 
In  prayer  the  soul  approaches  God  as  a  priest,  bearing 

*  Origen,  "  De  orat."  31.  f  Cyprian,  "De  orat.  domin."  6. 

J  "  Deus  non  vocis  sed  cordis  auditor  est."     Ibid.  4. 

§  Origen,  "  Ep.  ad.  Gregor.  Thaumat." 


WORSHIP    IN    THE    HOME.  227 

to  Him  not  only  its  own  burdens,  but  the  sorrows  and 
needs  also  of  humanity  and  of  the  Church. 

''The  Prince  of  peace,"  says  Cyprian,  "the  one 
Lord  of  all,  would  not  that  prayer  should  be  marked  by 
any  isolation  of  ourselves  from  our  fellows,  so  that  we 
should  pray  for  ourselves  alone.  He  did  not  teach  us 
to  say,  '  My  Father  who  art  in  heaven,  give  me  my 
daily  bread,  forgive  my  trespasses.'  Prayer  must  have 
a  wider  scope  ;  it  includes  the  whole  community,  and 
when  we  pray  it  is  not  for  one  Christian  only,  but  for  the 
whole  people  of  God,  because  we  are  one  with  that 
people.  The  God  of  peace  and  of  love,  who  has  taught 
us  that  we  are  all  one,  would  have  each  pray  for  all,  since 
the  one  is  as  it  were  bearing  all  in  his  own  person."^ 
Thus  prayer  expands  like  the  stream  from  the  hidden 
spring,  spreading  its  waters  of  blessing  far  and  near  ; 
it  is  in  itself  a  spiritual  communion,  as  is  indicated  by 
the  sublime  plural  in  the  Lord's  Prayer.  It  is  natural, 
then,  that  before  finding  its  full  manifestation  in  the 
great  Christian  assemblies,  this  community  of  prayer 
should  be  realised  in  the  smaller  community  of  the 
family. 

Does  not  every  Christian  dwelling  become  a  sanc- 
tuary from  the  moment  it  opens  its  gates  to  the  invisible 
Guest  ?  We  have  already  quoted  the  beautiful  words 
of  Clement  of  Alexandria,  in  which  he  represents 
father,  mother,  and  child  as  finding  in  their  united 
prayer  the  fulfilment  of  the  Divine  promise,  "  Where 
two    or    three    are    gathered    together    in    my    name, 

*  "  Publica  est  nobis  et  communis  oratio,  et  quando  oramus,  non  pro 
uno,  sed  pro  toto  populo  oramus,  quia  totus  populus  unum  sumus." 
Cyprian,  "  De  orat.  domin."  8. 

i6  - 


228  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

there  am  I  in  the  midst  of  them." ''  Marriage,  so 
far  from  being  an  obstacle  to  piety,  is  sanctified  by  it. 
"  If  thou  hast  a  wife,"  says  the  "  Coptic  Constitution," 
"  pray  with  her."  t  Let  the  conjugal  union  be  no  ob- 
stacle to  prayer,  for  it  in  no  way  sullies  our  purity,  since 
those  who  have  been  washed  in  the  redeeming  blood 
have  no  need  to  be  washed  again.  They  are  sanctified 
and  purified. I  Husbands  and  wives  ought  to  study  the 
Scriptures  as  well  as  to  pray  together,  especially  when 
they  are  prevented  from  attending  public  worship. §  All 
the  commonest  acts  of  life  are  elevated  and  consecrated 
by  prayer.  Heavenly  things  should  take  the  precedence 
of  the  earthly,  and  it  is  more  important  to  take  care  of 
the  soul  than  of  the  body.  The  Christian  was  bound 
to  pray  before  repairing  to  the  public  baths. ||  The 
blessing  before  meals  was  strictly  enjoined.  In  the 
Jewish  religion  the  head  of  the  family  performed  a  truly 
sacerdotal  act  when  he  blessed  God  on  Easter  Day  at 
the  moment  of  eating  the  Paschal  lamb.  This  sacred 
memory  was  to  be  recalled  to  his  mind  whenever  he 
offered  his  simple  thanksgiving  to  heaven  at  the  family 
table,  around  which  his  wife  and  children  gathered  for 
their  ordinary  meals.  The  Lord's  Prayer  teaches  us  to 
make  direct  request  to  God  for  our  daily  bread,  as  though 
He  Himself  broke  it  to  us  with  His  own  hands.  Hence 
it  becomes  us  to  bless  Him  every  day  for  this  gift  of 

*  Clement  of  Alexandria,  "  Strom."  iii,  lo,  68. 
t  El'  ^e  yvraiKa  ix^tf,  u^a  7r|Cop€»'Xf(T0f.      "  Const.  Egypt."  x.  62. 
I  "Ev  ee  6  ya/uqj  hciiiii'og,  fn)  kwXvuv  Trpoa^vj^iaQai,  ov  yap  aKuQaproi  tare. 
Ibid.  ii.  62;  conip.  John  xiii.  10. 

§  MvxriQ  Kai  avayiMnfxoQ  KaipoQ.     Clement  of  Alexandria,  "  P?edag. "  ii. 

10,   96.    'El'    C't     t'/ptfjCL    y    KClTIIX^JfTlC    ov     yip£Tai     OtKOl.     tKaOTOQ     (iyiov  fSiGXniv 

Xa€iop  dvayivuiGKtTO  ikuvCji;  rd  avfi(pkp£iv  ioxovvra.    "Const.  Egypt,  "ii.  62. 
1]   "  Scd  et  cibum  non  prius  sumere  et  lavacrum  non  prius  adire,  quam 
interposita  o.atione,  fideles  decet."     Teitullianj  "  De  orat. "  20. 


WORSHIP    IN    THE    HOME.  229 

His   providence   which    makes  us  daily  guests  at  His 
table.      The   gospel    shows    us  Jesus     Christ    raising 
His  eyes  to  heavens  to  return  thanks  to  His  Father, 
before    satisfying    the    multitudes     assembled    around 
Him.     All   the   food  we  eat  is,,  according  to  St.  Paul, 
created    of    God    to   be    received    with   thanksgiving  ; 
and  thus  forms  a  part  of  the   great  Eucharist   of  the 
Christian  life.*     Thus  regarded,  every  meal  assumes  in 
a  manner  a  sacramental  character,  and  we  can  well  un- 
derstand how  the  Lord's  Supper  should  have  J3een  in 
primitive   times  connected  with  it.     Thus  the  Fathers 
of  the    second   and   third    centuries    rightly  lay  much 
stress  on  the  necessity  of   consecrating  every  common 
meal  by  prayer.     Clement  of  Alexandria  even  suggests 
that  a  hymn  be  sung  when  the  wine  is  taken,  and  does 
not  hesitate  to  call  the  meal  of  a  Christian  household  a 
Eucharist. t 

The  song  of  praise  to  God  was  heard  round  the 
domestic  hearth  no  less  than  in  the  church.  After 
reading  the  Scriptures,  the  family  joined  in  common 
prayer  and  sang  their  morning  hymn  of  praise,  after 
which  the  father,  mother,  and  children  exchanged  the 
kiss  of  peace,  and  all  betook  themselves  to  the  duties 
of  the  day.+  In  the  evening  the  same  simple  rites  were 
observed,  and  in  the  darkness  of  the  night  fresh  hallelu- 
jahs rose  from  fervent  hearts  to  the  Father  in  heaven. 
Two  of  the  ancient  hymns  sung  by  Christian  families  in 

*  BpwjLiarwv  a  b  Oebg  tKrintv  uq  fieTd\T]fi\piv  fieTo.  iv-)(api(TTiaQ  toIq  TriffToXg. 
I  Tim.  iv.  3. 

t  'Qg  dvai  Tr)v  SiKa'iav  rpottiriv  evxapiariav.  Clement  of  Alexandria, 
**Paeda!j:."  ii.  I,  10. 

I  "  Diligentiores  in  orando  subjungere  in  orationibus  alleluia  solent." 
Tertullian,  "  De  orat."  22.  "  Quae  oratio  cum  divortio  sancti  osculi 
Integra  ?  "     Ibid.  14. 


230  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

the  first  days  of  the  Church  have  come  down  to  us. 
Their  form  denotes  that  they  were  intended  rather  for 
private  than  for  public  worship. 

Morning  Hymn. 

Day  by  day  will  I  bless  Thee, 

And  will  praise  Thy  name  for  ever, 

And  from  age  to  age. 

Vouchsafe,  O  Lord,  that  we  may  be  kept  this  day  also 

without  sin. 
Blessed  art  Thou,  O  Lord,  the  God  of  our  fathers,  and 

Thy  name  is  to  be  praised  and  glorified  for  ever. 

Amen. 
Evening  Hymn. 
Blessed  art  Thou,  O  Lord  :  teach  me  Thy  judgments. 
O  Lord,  Thou  hast  been  a  refuge  to  us  from  generation 

to  generation. 
Thou,  O  Lord,  have  mercy  upon  us. 
Thou  hast  healed  my  soul  [in]  that  I  have  sinned 

against  Thee. 
O  Lord,  to  Thee  I  flee  for  refuge. 
Teach  me  to  do  Thy  will, 
Because  Thou  art  my  God  ; 
Because  Thou  art  the  fountain  of  life. 
In  Thy  light  shall  we  see  light. 
Extend  Thy  mercy  to  them  that  know  Thee.* 

A  third,  which  might  be  called  the  Twilight  Hymn, 
seems  also  adapted  for  use  in  the  family  no  less  than 
in  the  Church.     We  offer  a  literal  rendering  of  it. 

Calm  light  of  the  celestial  glory, 

O  Jesus,  Son  of  the  Eternal  Father, 

We  come  to  Thee  now  as  the  sun  goes  down, 

And  before  the  evening  light 


*  These  two  hymns  have  come  down  to  us  in  a  double  form,  as  adapted 
to  be  used  by  individuals  or  in  the  church.  See  Bunsen,  "  Analecta 
Antenicasna,"  vol.  iii.  pp.  88,  89.  We  have  given  the  former  only  as 
illustrating  our  present  subject. 


WORSHIP    IN    THE    HOME.  23I 

We  seek  Thee,  Father,  Son, 

And  Holy  Spirit  of  God. 

Thou  art  worthy  to  be  for  ever  praised  by 

holy  voices. 
O  Son  of  God,  Thou  givest  life  to  us, 
And  therefore  does  the  world  glorify  Thee. 

The  same  principle  which  regulated  the  daily  acts  of 
devotion  governed  the  whole  week.  Each  day  was 
associated  with  the  commemoration  of  the  Passion 
of  the  Lord,  except  Saturday,  which  was  celebrated 
in  a  special  manner  as  the  Sabbath  of  the  Old  Cove- 
nant, but  with  less  solemnity  than  the  Lord's  Day. 
The  custom  of  fasting  on  Wednesday,  in  remembrance 
of  the  treachery  of  Judas,  and  on  Friday,  as  the  day  of 
the  crucifixion,  was  established  at  a  very  early  period, 
though  w^e  cannot  ascertain  the  exact  date  of  its  com- 
mencement. We  do  know,  however,  that  it  was  not  in 
the  first  instance  regarded  as  obligatory."^  The  great 
festivals  of  the  Christian  year  were  celebrated  by 
public  worship  as  well  as  in  the  family.  The  Lord's 
Day  was  specially  commemorative  of  the  joy  of  the 
resurrection ;  thus  the  Christians  prayed  that  day  in 
a  standing  position,  both  at  their  domestic  altar  and 
in  the  house  of  prayer. 

All  images  were  strictly  prohibited  in  the  sacred 
edifices,  but  the  Christians  were  permitted  to  engrave 
upon  their  cups  and  seals  symbols  of  their  faith,  such 
as  the  Good  Shepherd,  the  anchor,  the  palm,  the 
mystic  fish,  the  vessel,  and  other  emblems. t 

One  of  the  most  beautiful  customs  of  this  age  was 

*  Tertullian,  "  De  orat."  14. 

t  A'l    cf    (70/^rty7r?tt;    Vj.dv  'iaTiiiv  ireKiiaQ    rj    ixQvQ    ^   vavQ.      Clement   of 
Alexandria,  "P£edrg."iii.  II,  59. 


232  THE    EARLY   CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

to  consecrate  by  prayer  the  hospitality  freely  offered 
in  Christian  homes.  Tertullian  says  :  "  Do  not  allow 
a  brother  to  cross  thy  threshold  without  praying  with 
him.'''  Has  he  not  a  right  to  say  to  his  host:  'Thou 
hast  in  me  a  brother:  nay,  more,  I  represent  Jesus 
Christ,  who  lives  in  His  people  '  ?  Who  knows  if  the 
stranger  thou  receivest  may  not  be  a  hidden  angel  of 
God  ?  He  will  esteem  the  heavenly  benediction  more 
than  all  that  a  generous  hospitality  can  offer  to  renew 
his  strength.  Without  that  he  would  suppose  himself 
under  the  roof  of  a  heathen  living  without  God  and  with- 
out hope.  How  could  he  say,  as  the  Lord  commands, 
'  Peace  be  to  this  house,'  if  the  same  blessing  had  not 
been  invoked  on  his  own  head  by  prayer  ?  "  t 

What  consolation  must  have  come  to  the  heart  of  the 
Christian  exile  or  traveller  in  these  simple  homes,  which 
were  so  generously  opened  to  him,  alike  in  the  great 
centres  of  paganism,  where  he  must  have  felt  terribly 
alone  in  the  midst  of  the  profane  orgies  of  the  city,  or 
in  the  heart  of  some  benighted  village.  Family  wor- 
ship was  celebrated  in  these  Christian  households  under 
the  simplest  forms,  but  with  as  much  solemnity  as 
in  the  great  assemblies.  What  could  be  more  beauti- 
ful than  the  morning  and  evening  worship,  when 
mother,  children,  and  servants  were  all  gathered 
around  the  father,  the  true  priest  of  the  house  ? 
The  Word  of  life  was  read  as  devoutly  in  the  family 
circle  as  in  the  public  sanctuary.  Prayer  did  not  rise 
with  more  fervour  from  the  lips  of  a  bishop  than  from 
those  of  a  lowly  artisan.     Not  satisfied  with  express- 

*  "Fratrem  domum  tuam  introgressum  ne  sine  oratione  dimiseris." 
Tertullian,    "  De  orat."  21.  f  Ibid. 


WORSHIP    IN    THE    HOME.  233 

ing  with  childlike  simplicity  their  own  family  needs 
and  requests,  he  would  bear  up  also  before  God  His 
tried  and  suffering  people,  and  intercede  with  Him 
for  a  lost  and  impenitent  world.  The  song  in  which 
the  voices  of  the  little  children  joined,  reached  the  ear 
of  God  no  less  acceptably  than  the  sublime  hymns  of 
the  Church.  When  the  father  had  blessed  the  coarse 
food,  served  on  the  rustic  table,  around  which  strangers 
so  often  sat  as  welcome  guests,  it  seemed  like  a  renewal 
of  the  supper  of  the  Lord  when,  as  in  the  times  of  the 
primitive  Church  at  Jerusalem,  the  apostles  broke  bread 
from  house  to  house. 

Sometimes  the  silence  of  night  would  be  broken  by  the 
solemn  voice  of  one  crying  at  the  hour  when  the  Bride- 
groom had  promised  to  come  to  call  the  faithful  virgins, 
or  as  if  in  response  to  that  great  hymn  of  the  night  of 
which  the  Psalmist  has  given  us  the  echo,  and  which 
Pythagoras,  in  his  glorious  dreams,  heard  vibrating 
through  the  spheres. 

All  these  prayers  of  the  day  and  of  the  night  were  but 
the  articulate  expression  of  the  mute  unceasing  prayers 
which  ascended  as  perfume  from  the  entire  life  —  the 
incense  of  that  holiness  which  is,  as  Origen  says,  the 
very  breath  of  a  purified  existence. 

Such  was  domestic  piety  in  the  grand  age  of  the  early 
Church.  Public  worship  was  but  the  prolongation  and 
expansion  of  this  private  devotion,  from  which  alone  it 
derived  that  character  of  reality  and  spirituality  which 
is  its  distinctive  mark. 


23  f  THE    EARLY   CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 


CHAPTER  III. 

TIMES    AND    PLACES    OF    PUBLIC   WORSHIP. 

§  I. — The  Lord's  Day  and  the  Christian  Festivals. 

The  Church,  as  she  went  on  rapidly  growing  through 
the  extraordinary  success  of  her  missions,  could  not 
long  content  herself  with  mere  private  houses  in  which 
to  celebrate  her  worship  ;  she  was  constrained  also  to 
fix  certain  hours  and  days  for  public  service,  in  order  to 
gather  together  her  members,  scattered  as  they  were 
over  all  quarters  of  great  cities,  and  variously  occupied 
in  earning  their  bread.  It  was  indeed  expressly  for- 
bidden to  any  Christian  so  to  indulge  in  mystical 
contemplation  as  to  hinder  his  daily  work.  The  Apostle 
Paul  had  already  combated  this  dangerous  tendency  in 
the  young  Church  of  Thessalonica,  which,  under  pretext 
of  looking  for  the  return  of  Christ,  had  abandoned 
itself  to  an  indolent  devoteeism,  highly  dangerous  in 
every  respect.*  The  Christians  were  therefore  mixed  up 
in  the  noisy  activity  of  the  great  centres  of  ancient  civili- 
sation: public  worship  was  only  rendered  possible  under 
such  conditions  by  the  setting  apart  of  certain  places  and 
of  certain  hours  for  the  assembling  of  believers  for  prayer. 
It  was  also  very  important  that  Christians  should  have 

*  2  Thess.  iv.  10-12. 


THE    lord's    day.  235 

the  opportunity  of  retiring  sometimes  from  the  deafening 
hum  of  worldliness  in  the  midst  of  which  they  Hved, 
that  they  might  commune  in  silence  with  their  God. 
We  know  that  all  places  were  hoi}  to  Him  who  said  to 
the  woman  of  Sychar,  "  The  time  shall  come  when  ye 
shall  neither  on  this  mountain  nor  yet  at  Jerusalem 
worship  the  Father  ;  "  and  yet  the  Lord  Himself  sought 
the  quiet  mountain  top  for  solitary  communion  with 
God.  It  needs  no  deep  knowledge  of  psyci»iology  to 
explain  the  value  of  these  intervals  for  prayer,  in  which 
the  pilgrim  heavenward  shakes  off  for  a  few  moments 
the  dust  from  his  feet,  and  refreshes  himself  in  the  con- 
templation of  Divine  things.  Nor  need  there  be  any 
recurrence  to  the  old  Jewish  ideas  which  attributed  a 
character  of  exclusive  sacredness  to  such  days  and 
places  of  devout  repose.  We  are  constrained  to  admit, 
however,  that  the  descent  is  an  easy  one,  and  the  decline 
of  spirituality  in  the  Church  quickly  led  her  back  to 
the  obsolete  idea  of  another  Sabbath  and  another 
temple,  after  the  model  of  the  Jewish,  just  as  she  fell 
again  under  the  influences  of  a  sacerdotalism  which  the 
gospel  had  really  abrogated.  She  long  preserved,  how- 
ever, the  true  conception  of  spiritual  worship,  unfettered 
by  any  outward  condition. 

Let  us  speak  of  the  special  days  of  worship,  before 
directing  our  attention  to  the  buildings  first  set  apart 
for  this  purpose. 

We  have  shown,  in  our  exposition  of  the  theology  of 
the  second  and  third  centuries,  that  the  early  Church 
adhered  faithfully  to  the  principle  laid  down  by  St.  Paul, 
who  rejects  the  distinction  of  days,  even  so  far  as  the 
observance  of  the  Sabbath  day,  as  a  relic  of  the  religion 


236  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

of  tvpes  and  shadows.  To  the  Christian  there  was 
neither  new  moon  nor  Sabbath  day."^  We  have  now 
to  inquire  if  in  practice  the  Church  was  true  to  this  her 
theory. 

We  have   observed,  in  speaking  of  private  worship, 
that  there  was  an  attempt  to  make  every  day  a  memo- 
rial of  Christ,  and  that   the  principal  hours  of  prayer 
were  associated  with  the  great  memories  of  His  Passion. 
The  same  idea  is  thus  expressed  in  the  "Constitution 
of  the  Egyptian  Church."    "Be  mindful  ever  of  Jesus 
Christ."      He  presides  over  the  Christian  week  and  the 
Christian  year.     Thus  the  Christian  is  to  walk  with  the 
Redeemer  along   the   painful  road   to  Calvary,    before 
sharing    in    the   glorious   triumph    of    the    third    day. 
Wednesday  and  Friday  were  devoted  to  prayer  and  fast- 
ing, at  least  the  latter  part  of  the  d?>y.     Public  worship 
on  these  days  was  to  have  special  reference  to  the  scenes 
of  the  Passion.     They  were  called  the  watch-days  or 
sentry-days  of  the  week,  the  figure  being  borrowed  from 
military  service.     It  signified  a  holy  vigil  of  the  Chris- 
tian soul  with  the  Saviour  in  His  agony  and  Passion.! 
It  is  as  though  the  Church  would  fulfil  the  task  in  which 
the  feeble  disciples  failed,  when  they  were  overcome  by 
slumber  while  their  Master  passed  through  His  terrible 
conflict    in   Gethsemane  ;  as  though   the   Church  was 
jealous  that    she  might    not   deserve    the    tender   yet 
poignant  reproach  which  He  addressed  to  the  disciples 
at  the  close  of  His  night  of  agony:  "  What,  could  ye 
not  watch  with  me  one  hour  ?  " 

*  Col.ii.  16.  t  "  Const.  Egypt."  ii.  62. 

+  Tlie  word  we  have  translated  7vaich-day  occurs  in  "Pastor  Hermas," 
iii.;  Simil.  5,  i.  "  Cur  stationibus  quartam  et  sextam  Sabbati  dicamus. " 
Tcrtullian,  "I)c  ej  in."  14.  "  Static  de  militari  exemplo  nomen  accepit." 
Ibid.  **  De  ornl."  I  \. 


THE    LORD  S   DAY.  237 

Sunday  was  from  the  commencement  of  the  second 
century  the  great  day  of  public  worship.  The  testimony 
of  Pliny  the  Younger  is  as  decisive  on  this  point  as 
that  of  Justin  Martyr  and  other  Fathers  of  the  same 
age.*  Whatever  importance  may  be  attached  to  public 
worship  on  that  day,  it  is  not  regarded  as  in  any  way  a 
substitute  for  the  Jewish  Sabbath,  nor  is  its  observance 
connected  with  the  fourth  commandment  of  the  Deca- 
logue. There  is  no  trace  of  any  such  idea  in  the  writers 
of  this  age.  Thus  we  find  the  seventh  day  kept  as  a 
feast,  not  only  by  the  converts  from  Judaism  but  also 
by  most  of  the  Gentile  Churches.  At  Rome  the  Friday 
fast  was  protracted  through  the  hours  of  the  Lord's 
entombment,  and  this  extension  was  called  the  supple- 
mentary fast.!  The  Orientals,  on  the  contrary,  treated 
the  Sabbath  as  a  Christian  festival,  and  observed  the 
usual  solemnities  of  worship.  The  Christians  seem  to 
have  been  led  to  attach  some  special  observance  to  the 
Sabbath  in  opposition  to  the  Gnostic  Marcionites,  who, 
in  their  vehement  dualism,  despised  everything  which 
had  reference  to  the  work  of  the  six  days  and  to  the 
God  of  creation.!  The  coexistence  of  this  Sabbath 
celebration  and  of  the  Lord's  Day  was  in  itself  sufficient 
to  save  the  early  Church  from  that  Jewish  Sabbata- 
rianism to  which  ignorance  of  history,  and  yet  more, 
unfaithfulness  to  the  great  principles  of  Christianity, 
have  too  often  given  the  ascendency  in  our  day.  Nothing 
can  more  clearly  prove  the  absence  of  any  such  notion 

*  Pliny,  "Ep."x.  96;  Justin,  "Apol."ii.  67;  Tertullian,  "De  corona," 
3  ;   "De  fuga  in  persecut."  14;  "  Apol,"  16. 

t  Tertullian,  "  De  jejun."  14.  This  Sabbath  fast  observed  at  Rome  was 
called  "  Superpositio  jejunii,"  Neander,  "All.  Gesch.  der  Christlich 
kirch."  i.  340.  I  Augustine,  "Archceol."  i.  515. 


238  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

in  Christian  antiquity,  than  the  unquestionable  fact  of 
the  daily  celebration  of  public  worship  with  all  solem- 
nity in  great  metropolitan  centres  like  Alexandria.  We 
read  in  the  "  Constitutions  of  the  Church  of  Egypt :  " 
"  Let  all  the  faithful  hasten  in  the  morning,  before  they 
repair  to  their  work,  to  the  Church,  where  they  will  hnd 
the  spirit  of  deliverance.  Let  each  one  partake  of  the 
eucharistic  feast  before  receiving  any  other  food.'"" 
Every  day  is  thus  alike  sanctified.  The  holy  mysteries 
are  not  restricted  to  Sunday.  Sunday  was  to  the  other 
days  what  the  bishop  of  this  age  was  to  his  brethren, 
— simply  primus  inter  pares. 

There  is  no  apostolic  decree  or  episcopal  ordinance 
appointing  the  celebration  of  the  first  day  of  the  week 
any  more  than  the  watch-days  or  the  hours  of  private 
devotion.  Sunday  is  the  offspring  of  Christian  liberty, 
not  the  inheritance  of  Jewish  bondage.  Deriving  their 
strength  and  joy  from  the  resurrection  of  their  Master, 
the  Christians  delighted  in  celebrating  this  weekly  day 
of  remembrance.  By  a  transition  easy  to  understand, 
they  associated  the  coming  forth  from  the  tomb  of  the 
Prince  of  light,  with  the  story  of  the  great  day  when  at 
His  word  the  first  sun  rose  out  of  chaos  as  out  of 
nature's  tomb.  They  loved  to  associate  in  their  grati- 
tude the  gifts  of  creation  and  the  grace  of  redemption. 
The  Lord's  day  commemorated  this  twofold  working 
of  the  Creator  and  Saviour  cf  the  world.  Justin,  after 
boldly  declaring  that  the  Christians  were  no  Sabbata- 
rians like  the  Jews,  adds  :  "  Our  great  assembly  is  held 
on  the  Lord's  day,  because  that  is  the  first  day  in  which 

*  Y\aQ  -TTttTTug  (TTTOvSa^kTU)  (vxnpi(yriag  usToX^^dv  Trpb  Toi)  tivoq  aXkov 
YiicraaOai.   "  Const.  Egypt."  ii.  58. 


THE    LORD  S    DAY.  239 

God  brought  forth  the  world  out  of  darkness  and  chaos, 
and  also  because  Jesus  Christ  our  Saviour  on  that  day 
came  forth  from  the  grave,  having  been  crucified  on  the 
Friday ;  and  on  the  morrow  after  the  Saturday  He 
appeared  to  the  apostles  and  disciples  and  taught  them 
that  which  we  present  to  your  meditation.'"''  The  free 
and  generous  spirit  of  Justin  felt  no  scruple  in  calling 
the  Lord's  Day  the  day  of  the  Sun,  according  to  the 
custom  of  the  ancient  world,  for,  faithful  to  the  princi- 
ples of  his  "  Apology,"  he  gave  to  the  appellation  a  new 
and  suggestive  sense.  He  recognised  as  a  seed  of  the 
Word  the  partial  truth  which  he  discovered  in  paganism, 
while  he  endeavoured  to  give  it  an  evangelical  develop- 
ment. The  more  timid  Christians  avoided  a  designation 
which  might  give  the  pagans  a  pretext  for  calling  them 
sun-worshippers. t  They  preferred  to  call  Sunday  the 
Lord's  day,  an  expression  already  employed  in  the 
epistles  ascribed  to  Ignatius,  t  Subsequently,  however, 
the  old  name,  Sunday,  reappeared,  and  became  current 
in  most  modern  languages. 

Everything  was  to  make  manifest  the  joy  of  the 
Christian  on  the  day  commemorative  of  the  resurrec- 
tion. He  was  not  allowed  to  fast ;  he  remained  erect 
both  in  public  and  private  prayer,  indicating  by  this 
posture  his  fellowship  in  the  triumph  of  the  Prince  of 
life.  The  Sunday  worship,  in  which  all  the  faithful 
united,  was  celebrated  with  peculiar  solemnity.  "  On 
the  Lord's  day,"  run  the  "  Apostolical  Constitutions," 
in  a  passage  which  bears  the   marks  of  genuineness, 

*  T/y  Tov  rjXiov  ^eyo^fvy  Vfispq,  Kotvi]  iravTMV  tTri  to  avrb  avveX^vati; 
yiverai.    Justin,  "Apol."  ii.  67.  t  Tertullian,  "  Apol."  16. 

X  "  Const.  Apost."  ii.  47;  viii.  33.  Eig  rqv  icvpiaiajv.  Pseudo  Ignat. 
"Ad  Magnes."  9,  lO. 


240  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

"  assemble  yourselves  to  bless  God  and  to  celebrate 
the  mercy  He  has  shown  you  in  Jesus  Christ,  in 
delivering  you  from  slavery  and  error.  Let  your  offer- 
ing be  pure  and  acceptable  to  God,  who  has  said  to  His 
universal  Church  :  '  In  every  place  incense  shall  be 
offered  to  my  name,  and  a  pure  offering,  for  my  name 
is  great  among  the  heathen,  saith  the  Lord  of 
hosts.' "  - 

There  is  no  indication  throughout  the  second  cen- 
tury that  the  cessation  of  work  was  obligatory.  The 
*'  Apostolical  Constitutions "  which  enjoin  it  are  of 
later  date ;  they  make  it  equally  binding  for  the 
Sabbath,  without  referring  in  any  way  to  the  Mosaic 
law,  and  basing  the  injunction  simply  upon  the  neces- 
sities of  worship. t  Tertullian,  who  demands  formally, 
at  the  commencement  of  the  third  century,  the  cessa- 
tion of  all  Sunday  work,  does  not  allude  to  the  rest  into 
which  the  Creator  entered  on  the  seventh  day;  his  only 
idea  seems  to  be  to  secure  the  conditions  favourable  foi 
meditation.  The  expressions  which  he  uses  indicate  that 
what  he  urges  is  an  innovation,  likely  to  meet  with  very 
general  objection.  He  says:  "We  should  abstain  on 
the  day  of  the  resurrection  from  all  that  might  trouble 
or  distract  us,  setting  aside  all  business,  so  as  to  give 
no  access  to  temptation." t  Sunday  w^as  generally 
chosen  for  the  adjustment  of  differences  between 
Christians,  before  the  elders  of  the  Church.  § 

*  "Const.  Apost."  vii.  30. 

t  Aia  Ti)v  ^uaaKaXinv  T/jg  evaii^HaQ.     *'  Const.  Apost."  viii.  33. 

+  '*  Nos  vero,  sicut  ac:epi'.inis,  solo  die  dominico  resurrectionis  omni 
rnxietatis  haVjitu  el  officio  caverc  dtbemus,  diffeientes  etiam  negotia,  ne 
i^ueni  diaboJo  locum  dcmus."     'J'oluUian,  "Deorat."  18. 

§  "Con^t.  Aposl."  ii.  47. 


THE    LORD  S    DAY.  24I 

During  a  lono;  period,  the  limit  of  which  it  is  not 
easy  to  fix,  in  the  second  century,  the  Christians 
observed  no  other  feast  but  the  Lord's  day.  It  was, 
however,  to  be  foreseen  that  they  would  not  adhere  to 
this,  but  would  apply  to  the  year  the  principle  which  had 
determined' the  disposition  of  their  days  and  weeks.  We 
must  not  lose  sight,  moreover,  of  the  influence  exercised 
by  the  traditions  of  the  Old  Testament  over  the  early 
Church,  which  would  naturally  be  led  to  borrow  some 
of  the  ancient  solemnities,  especially  those  which  were 
great  types  of  the  redemption.  Of  all  the  Jewish 
feasts,  there  were  two  which  were  by  anticipation  Chris- 
tian— the  Passover  and  Pentecost.  The  Passover  re- 
called at  once  the  sacrifice  of  the  true  Paschal  Lamb 
and  the  resurrection.  It  thus  formed  a  close  bond 
between  the  religion  of  promise  and  of  fulfilment. 
The  Alexandrine  Jews,  more  subtle  than  their  brethren 
in  Palestine,  delighted  to  see  in  it  the  symbol  of  the 
soul  delivered  from  the  captivity  of  sense,  as  from 
another  Egypt ;  but  this  interpretation,  however  pleas- 
ing to  a  few  philosophical  minds,  did  not  exclude  the 
great  commemoration  of  the  resurrection.  Pentecost, 
which  was  the  feast  of  harvest  in  the  Jewish  economy, 
recalled  the  pouring  forth  of  the  Holy  Spirit  and  all  the 
Divine  graces  which  had  flowed  from  the  open  grave 
of  Jesus  as  from  a  living  spring.*  Hence  the  Church 
did  not  separate  Pentecost  from  Easter,  but  kept  both 
in  one  and  the  same  feast. t     The  time  between  Easter 

*  Origen  thus  enumerates  the  Christian  festivals  of  his  time.  Td  xepi  tujv 
KvpiaK&v,  ?7  irapaaKevMV  r}  tov  Tia^xa  rj  rriQ  TTcvr^KOQrrjQ  0  y/ufpuip  yiv6i.iEva. 
"Contra  Cels."  viii.  22. 

t  "  Pentecostem  implere."  Tertullian,  **  De  idolat."  14.  The  Council 
of  Elvira,  in  its  canon  43,  w^as  the  first  to  limit  the  celebration  of  Pente- 
cost to  the  anniversary  of  the  outpouring  of  the  Holy  Spirit. 

17 


242  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

and  Pentecost  was  considered  to  be  one  long  season  of 
joy,  during  which  the  erect  posture  was  continued  in 
prayer,  and  fasting  was  suspended.  On  the  other  hand, 
the  days  immediately  before  Easter  were  devoted  to 
the  severest  fast  in  remembrance  of  the  agony  and 
humiliation  of  the  Lord.  The  fast  was  unbroken  on 
the  Sabbath,  which  was  the  anniversary  of  His  lying  in 
the  tomb.  This  was  called  the  great  day  of  prepara- 
tion. The  night  before  Easter  was  passed  in  prayer, 
in  reading  the  Holy  Scriptures,  and  in  worship.  As 
soon  as  the  dawn  broke,  the  Christians  saluted  each 
other  with  the  triumphant  words,  "  The  Lord  is  risen," 
and  after  the  baptism  of  the  neophytes  the  eucharistic 
feast  was  celebrated  with  great  solemnity. 

We  have  already  described  the  sharp  contentions 
which  arose  between  the  Christians  of  the  East  and 
West  in  reference  to  the  date  of  Easter,  and  we  have 
seen  how  Christian  liberty  triumphed  over  the  false 
unity  which  the  bishop  of  Rome  had  endeavoured  pre- 
maturely to  establish.  The  lofty  spirituality  which 
regulated  the  celebration  of  the  Christian  festivals 
comes  out  prominently  in  the  recommendation  of  the 
"  Coptic  Constitution  "  on  the  subject  of  the  fast  before 
Easter.  "  If  any  voyager  by  sea,"  says  this  document, 
*'  finds  that  he  cannot  exactly  recollect  the  date  of 
Easter,  let  him  postpone  his  fast  to  the  week  of  Pente- 
cost, for  that  which  we  celebrate  is  not  properly  the 
Passover,  but  the  type  of  that  which  was  promised."* 
Origen  makes  this  excellent  remark:  "The  perfect 
Christian,  who  lives  in  communion  with  the  Word  by 

*  El  TiQ  iv  GaXoTT^  vTrapxwv  wyrof?  Trjv  Tov  iraoxa  rifxfpnv  yyovt;  v^n- 
Tiv'iTU)  fitrd  Tr)v  TrfVTV>^ortr{]v'  ov  yafj  -k d(7\a  ([-vXaTTOiJfV  ctWu  tvttov  rajy 
ipxonhijji'.      "Const.  Kgypt.  "  ii.  55. 


CHURCH    FESTIVALS.  243 

his  words,  his  acts,  and  thoughts,  makes  his  whole  Hfe 
one  long  Lord's  Day.  If  he  is  always  preparing  for  the 
true  life  by  his  renunciation  of  the  life  of  sense,  he  is 
perpetually  celebrating  the  preparation  for  the  Passover. 
If  it  is  always  in  his  thoughts  that  Christ  is  our  Passover, 
and  that  we  are  to  feed  upon  His  flesh,  every  day  is 
with  him  a  Passover  feast.  If  he  can  say,  *  We  are 
risen  with  Christ,  and  are  seated  with  Him  in  the 
heavenly  places,'  Pentecost  for  him  knows  no  end ; 
especially  if,  repairing  to  the  upper  chamber,  he  pre- 
pares himself  by  prayer  to  receive,  in  some  measure 
like  the  apostles,  the  tongues  of  fire."  * 

Very  early  in  the  third  century  we  find  the  intro- 
duction of  another  feast — that  of  Epiphany — in  com- 
memoration of  the  glorious  consecration  of  Jesus  to 
His  ministry  by  baptism.  According  to  the  testimony 
of  Clement  of  Alexandria,  the  disciples  of  Basilides  in- 
troduced this  into  Egypt. t  It  is  probable  that  they 
had  met  with  the  observance  of  this  feast  among  the 
Judaising  Churches  of  Palestine  and  Syria,  who  would 
attach  peculiar  importance  to  it  from  a  theocratic  point 
of  view.  The  Church  appropriated  it  in  the  course  of 
the  third  century.  We  may  conclude  from  the  same 
passage  of  Clement,  who  mentions  a  minute  calculation 
to  determine  the  date  of  the  birth  of  Christ,  that  this 
great  fact  began  to  be  celebrated  in  the  East  in  his 
day.  At  the  commencement  of  the  fourth  century 
these  feasts  had  passed  into  recognised  institutions  of 
the  Church. 

*  Oyjc  'iariv  ore  ov  Trota  to  Traaxa.     Origen,  "Contra  Gels."  viii.  22. 

t  E/(Ti  dk  01  TTtpi^pyoTipov  ry  ytvian  rov  acorrlpog  y^iwv  oii  fiopov  to  tTor, 
aWd  Kcd  Tt)v  ii}.ikpav  TrpoariOePTtc.  Oi  di  otto  BcKTtXtuhv  y.aX  rov  (iaTTTiG- 
f-iUTog  avToh  Titv  tjfitpav  iopTti^ovoi.  Clement  of  Alexandria,  •*  Strom."  i. 
21,  145,  146. 

17- 


244  '^^^    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

To  these  great  festivals  we  must  add  the  anniversaries 
of  the  death  of  the  martyrs.     The  Christians  repaired 
in  crowds  to  their  tombs,  there  to  read  again  the  story 
of  their  sufferings,  to  revive  their  memory,  and  to  par- 
take of  the  Eucharist  on  those  spots  which  seemed  pre- 
eminently sacred  to  their  brethren  engaged  in  the  same 
conflict.     No  superstition  blended  originally  with  this 
pious  custom,  as  is  evident  from  the  manner  in  which 
the  friends  and  disciples  of  Polycarp  explain  the  funeral 
honours  offered  to  him.    *'  Can  any  suppose,"  they  said, 
"  that  we  are  forsaking  the  Christ  who  suffered  for  the 
salvation   of   the  whole   world,    or   are   transferring  to 
others  the  honour  which  is  due  to  Him  alone  ?     We 
\\'orship  Him  as  the  Son  of  God  ;  we  do  but  love  the 
martyrs,  as  they  deserve,  for  their  unconquerable  love 
to  their  Lord   and   King,   and   desire  to  be  their  true 
brethren  and  followers.     We  have  taken  the  bones  of 
Polycarp,  which  are  more  precious  than  gold  or  gems, 
to   put  them  in  a  fit   place.      May    God  permit  us  to 
gather  again  at  this  spot  with  joy  and  gladness,  here 
to  celebrate  the  anniversary  of  his  martyrdom,  in  re- 
membrance of  the  conflicts  he  endured,  and  in  order  to 
brace  to  the  same  steadfast  resistance  his  brethren  in  the 
faith."  *     It  is   unquestionable   that  this  love  for  the 
martyrs  assumed  a  fanatical  character  in  the  third  cen- 
tury, and  we  have  shown  how  it  affected  the  question 
of  ecclesiastical   organisation.      The   grand   and   truly 
Christian  idea  of  the  solidarity  of  the  Church  trium- 
'  phant  and  the  Church  militant,  did  not  long  confine  itself 
to  the  true  limits  which  it  at  first  observed.     We  have 
cited  passages  from  Origen  and  Cyprian  which,  beau- 

*  "Acta  Polycrat."  Eusebius,  "  H.E."  iv.  15. 


CHURCH    FESTIVALS.  245 

tiful  as  they  are,  are  also  perilous,  because  they  asso- 
ciate the  martyrs  with  the  redeeming  work  of  Christ 
by  the  supposed  merit  they  had  acquired.  Between 
such  commemoration  and  the  invocation  of  saints  there 
was  but  one  step.  This  line  was  not  crossed  till  the 
fourth  century,  but  it  is  only  just  to  admit,  in  spite  of 
Tertullian's  indignant  protests,  that  the  Church  was 
already  tending  in  the  direction  of  saint-worship.  The 
feeling  which  prompted  the  celebration  of  the  anniver- 
saries of  the  martyrs  was,  nevertheless,  in  its  origin  a 
feeling  pure  and  high.  The  Church  declared  that  she 
knew  no  barrier  between  earth  and  heaven,  between 
the  visible  and  the  invisible,  and  that  none  were  more 
living  for  her  than  her  dead  saints.  She  was  not  con- 
tent with  honouring  only  those  who  were  illustrious. 
The  Christian  family  loved  to  assemble  in  the  cata- 
combs around  the  cherished  and  revered  remains  of 
their  beloved  on  the  anniversary  of  their  birthdays. 
There  they  found,  as  it  were,  a  doubly  sacred  centre  for 
their  family  affections.  This  explains  the  great  import- 
ance attached  to  Christian  burial-places.  This  family 
feast  assumed  a  more  general  character  when  it  was 
held  in  honour  of  a  martyr.  Very  beautiful  and  touch- 
ing in  the  early  ages  of  the  Church  were  these  com- 
memorative services,  held  in  crypts  covered  with 
scriptural  symbols,  under  dark  arches  dimly  lighted  by 
funeral  lamps,  along  which  reverberated  the  hymns  of 
hope  and  love. 

Such  were  the  feasts  celebrated  before  the  Council 
of  Nicsea.  We  find  no  trace  of  any  but  these, — the 
Easter  feast,  Pentecost,  the  Epiphany,  which  is  as  yet 
only  partially  observed,  and   the  anniversaries   of   the 


246  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

martyrs.  There  is  no  trace  at  this  date  of  feasts  in 
honour  of  Mary  the  mother  of  Christ :  it  is  not  till  long 
after  the  time  when  the  Epiphany  was  introduced  that 
an  obscure  sect  inaugurated  this  exaltation  of  the 
humblest  and  holiest  of  women,  an  exaltation  which 
was  not  to  stop  short  of  apotheosis.  The  Christian 
feasts  during  the  primitive  age  are  all  in  remem- 
brance of  Christ.  Christianity  is  not  as  yet  vic- 
torious and  powerful  enough  to  inaugurate  a  new  era 
in  history,  by  making  it  recommence,  as  it  were,  in 
the  cradle  at  Bethlehem,  but  it  sets  its  seal  on  the 
life  of  its  disciples,  without  suffering  any  idolatrous 
intermixture.  It  does  not  suppose  it  to  be  part  of  its 
mission  to  restore  the  worship  of  the  creature,  and 
thus  to  raise  again,  under  a  new  form,  the  paganism  it 
seeks  to  destroy.  Thus  it  carefully  avoids  any  imita- 
tion of  the  heathen  mode  of  celebrating  its  mysteries. 

The  pagan  festivals,  especially  under  the  Empire, 
were  veritable  saturnalia.  Philo,  accustomed  to  the 
solemn  and  sublime  rites  of  Judaism,  has  described 
them  with  graphic  power.  He  says  it  would  not  be 
possible  to  enumerate  the  gross  and  impure  traditions 
associated  with  them.  They  were,  in  fact,  days  of 
idleness,  of  frivolity,  of  orgies  of  every  description, 
distinguished  from  common  days  by  the  subversion  of 
all  that  was  natural,  pure,  and  noble,  and  by  the 
licence  given  to  every  base  and  sensual  indulgence. 
Not  content  with  encouraging  the  evil  passions  of  indi- 
viduals in  their  ordinary  life,  the  priests  of  paganism 
seemed  to  seek  in  their  feasts  to  unite  all  vile  allure- 
ments in  one  stream,  like  the  tributaries  of  a  river, 
thus  giving  a  mighty  impetus  to  the  corruption  inherent 


CHURCH    FESTIVALS.  247 

in   their  system.     Oblations  and  expiatory  rites  were 
but  a  mockery  in   the   midst  of  so   much  which  was 
defiling.'''  The  Church  felt  the  necessity  of  distinguish- 
ing her  festivals  fr«m  these  saturnalia  of  an   impious 
worship,  by  giving  to  them  a  character  of  austere  sim- 
plicity.    The  counsels  of  Gregory  of  Nazianzen  on  this 
subject  faithfully  represent  the   practice   of  the   third 
century.     He  says  :  "  Let  us  observe  the  feast,  not  with 
outward  pomp,  but  in  the  spirit  of  God  ;  not  after  an 
earthly,  but  a  heavenly  manner.     How  may  we  do  this 
successfully  ?      We    will    not    crown    our   doors    with 
flowers,  we   will  not  form  processions  of  dancers,  we 
will  not   decorate   our   streets.      We   will    not    gratify 
our   senses    or    our   tastes,    lest  we    open    the  way  to 
sin.     We   will  not  array   ourselves  in   sumptuous  and 
effeminate  attire,  nor  with  gold  and  diamonds  and  gay 
colours,  which  only  disguise  natural  beauty.     We  will 
not  indulge  in  luxurious  feasts;  we  will  reject  all  super- 
fluity,  which   is    so    much    taken  from  the  necessities 
of  those   who    are    fashioned    of   the    same    clay   with 
ourselves.     These  pomps  and  feastings  may  befit  those 
Greeks  who   offer   to    their  gods   the  incense   of  their 
savoury  viands,  and  who  worship  those  evil  beings  in  a 
manner  worthy  of  them.     But  we,  who  are  worshippers 
of  the  Word,  shall  find  our  highest  joy  in  His  teaching, 
in  the  study  of  His  holy  law,  and  in   dwelling  on  the 
facts  which  in  our  feasts  we  celebrate."  t 

The  only  outward  specialities  of  the  Christian  fes- 
tivals were  the  white  garments,  which  it  seems  to  have 
been  the  practice  of  the  Christians  to  wear  on  these 

*  Philo,  "Opera,"  edit.  Pfeififer,  vol.  ii.  p.  48. 
t  Gregor.  Nazianz.  "  Oratio  38  in  Theoph." 


248  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

occasions  from  very  early  times,*  and  the  sacred  torches, 
designed  also  to  represent  the  joy  of  the  children  of  the 
light. t  While  these  feasts  retained  their  simplicity, 
they  derived  their  value  from  the  liberty  and  spontaneity 
of  those  who  took  part  in  them.  It  was  only  at  the 
commencement  of  the  fourth  century  that  the  Council 
of  Elvira  passed  a  rigorous  rule  for  the  observance  of 
the  Lord's  day  and  the  attendance  of  all  the  faithful  at 
the  public  services,  a  rule  which  the  Christian  emperors 
subsequently  made  a  law  of  the  state.  J 

§  2. — Buildings  Dedicated  to  Christian  Worship. 

If  we  distinguish  between  the  idea  of  a  temple  in  the 
Jewish  sense  and  that  of  a  house  of  prayer,  designed 
simply  to  answer  the  purposes  of  public  worship,  we 
shall  find  that  the  Fathers  of  this  age  do  not  contradict 
themselves  when  they  assert  that  the  Christians  have 
no  sanctuary,  and  yet  speak  of  buildings  where  they 
gather  together,  and  which  they  regard  with  very 
natural  feelings  of  veneration.  Christian  antiquity 
absolutely  rejected  the  notion  of  a  sanctuary,  that  is, 
of  a  sacred  place  where  the  presence  of  God  should  be 
felt  in  a  special  and  peculiar  manner.  The  Christians 
did  not  believe  simply,  like  the  ancient  Persians,  that 
the  Divinity  which  fills  the  universe  cannot  be  confined 
within  walls,  a  grand  idea  which  Solomon  had  magnifi- 
cently expressed  when,  in  his  dedication  of  the  temple, 
he  declared  that  the  heaven  of  heavens  could  not  con- 

*  "Candidas  egreditur  nitidis  exercitus  undis."  Fragment  of  a  poem 
concerning  the  Passover,  attributed  to  Lactantius.  Augustine,  "  Archaeol." 
i.  496,  497. 

t  We  find  an  allusion  to  the  use  of  sacred  torches  in  the  34th  canon  of 
the  Council  of  Elvira,  A.D.  305. 

X  "  Council  of  Elvira,"  canon  21  ;    "  Cod.  Theodos."  lib.  xv.  tit.  5,  2. 


BUILDINGS    DEDICATED    TO    CHRISTIAN    WORSHIP.      249 

tain  Him.  They  also  believed  that  the  first  result  of 
redemption  had  been  to  restore  man  and  his  dwelling- 
place  to  God,  and  that  temples,  properly  so  called, 
were,  like  expiatory  sacrifices,  now  no  longer  needed. 
Thus  Minutius  Felix  was  the  true  exponent  of  the 
Chorch  of  the  second  century,  when  he  declared  that 
Christians  had  no  altars  :  "  Aras  non  habemus."  * 

The  idea  of  an  altar  is  in  its  exact  meaning  insepar- 
able from  that  of  an  atoning  sacrifice  to  be  laid  on  it 
by  the  worshipper.  Such  an  idea  has  no  place  in  the 
Christian  system.  It  is  a  direct  attack  on  the  funda- 
mental principle  of  the  gospel,  and  the  word  itself  should 
be  carefully  avoided  in  its  material  acceptation.  Minu- 
tius Felix  rejects  the  idea  of  a  temple  no  less  than  of 
an  altar.  "  Why,"  he  says,  "  should  I  rear  a  temple  to 
God,  wdien  the  world  of  His  creation  cannot  contain 
Him  ?  "  t  Origen  speaks  no  less  decisively  in  the  third 
century.  He  makes  no  concession  to  Celsus,  who  urges 
it  as  a  reproach  against  the  new  religion  that  it  has  no 
sanctuary. 

"  We  desire,"  says  the  great  Christian  spiritualist, 
"  neither  temples  nor  statues  for  our  God  ;  we  leave 
such  things  to  the  demons,  who  choose  one  place  in 
preference  to  another,  without  knowing  why.  Let  us 
follow  Christ,  who  would  turn  away  our  eyes  from 
things  that  are  seen,  not  because  they  are  corruptible 
only,  but  corrupting.  He  teaches  us  to  offer  to  God 
the  true  service  of  holiness  and  prayer,  through  Him 

*  Minut.  Felix,  "  Octavius,"  c.  32;   Arnobius,  "  Disputat."  vi.  I. 

t  Minut.  Felix.  "  Octavius,"  c.  22.  The  word  temple  was  reserved  for 
pagan  sanctuaries,  and  was  never  applied  to  Christian  churches  till  after  the 
time  of  Constantine.  Ambiose,  "  Ep.  ad  Marc."  33  ;  Bingham,  "Orig." 
iii.  p.  9. 


250  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH.      - 

whom  we  recognise  as  the  Mediator  between  the  created 
and  the  uncreated,  who  imparts  to  us  the  gifts  of  the 
Father,  and  at  the  same  time  presents  our  petitions  to 
Him,  as  our  Priest."*     "The   true   temple  of  God," 
says   Origen   elsewhere,    "  is  the   man  who  bears  His 
image;  primarily,  therefore,  the  Man  Christ  Jesus; and 
then  the  believing  soul  animated  by  His  Spirit.     This  is 
the  living  statue  of  the  Deity,  such  as  no  Jupiter  sculp- 
tured  by   Phidias    can    equal."  t     It    follows   that   the 
worship  of  God  cannot  be  confined  exclusively  to  any 
building.    *'  We  may  pray,"  says  Tertullian,  "  wherever 
we  feel  constrained  to  prayer,  for  the  apostles  did  not 
sin   when   they  sang  the   praises   of   God   before  their 
jailer  any  more   than   St.    Paul  when   he   broke   bread 
upon  the  ship."  |     "  Every  place   into  which  we  were 
driven   by  persecution   proved   to    us    a   true    place  of 
prayer,"  says  Dionysius  of  Alexandria,  "were  it  a  field, 
a  desert,  or  a   prison."  §     Justin  Martyr  spoke  in  the 
same  tone  when  he  replied  to  the  question  of  the  judge 
on  his  trial.     "Where  do  you   assemble?"   asked  the 
proconsul.     "  Each  one  where  he  will  and  where  he  is 
able.     You  suppose  that  we  all  meet  in  the  same  place. 
It  is  no  such  thing  ;  for  the   God  of  the   Christians  is 
confined  to  no  place ;   He   fills  with   His  invisible  pre- 
sence earth  and  heaven,  and  He  is  worshipped  every- 
where by  those  who  believe  in  Him."  || 

*  Ti9))7ranEv  ruv  'h](Tovi>  rov  vovv  rjjxoJv  fXiraOkwa  airb  iravrog  ah9r]T0v. 
Origen,  "  Contra  Cels."  iii.  34. 

t  Ibid.  viii.   17,  18. 

I  "  Omni  loco,  quern  opportunitas  aut  etiam  necessitas  importaret." 
Tertullian,  "Deorat. "  19. 

§  Ylac  o  tTiq  Ka9'  incKr-ov  9\l\l/fiO(;  roTrog  Travt)yvptKov  t'lfut'  ykyovi  \ojpiov. 
Dionysius  of  Alexat  dria,   "  Apud  Eusebius,  H. E."  vii.  22. 

li  "  Acta  Jn^tini." 


BUILDINGS    DEDICATED    TO    CHRISTIAN    WORSHIP.     25I 

This  truly  spiritual  conception  of  worship  is  corrobo- 
rated by  the  fact  that  during  the  first  three  centuries 
we  find  no  trace  of  any  special  consecration  of  buildings 
for  worship ;  no  necessity  was  felt  for  such  a  cere- 
monial for  such  a  building,  any  more  than  for  the 
dwelling  of  a  Christian  family,  which  was  no  less  a 
sanctuar\^,  as  was  every  place  where  God  dwelt."  * 
Originally,  the  word  Church  was  not  applied  to  the 
house  of  prayer,  but  simply  to  the  Christian  assembly. 
Clement  of  Alexandria  says  :  ''I  do  not  call  the  place 
where  the  elect  gather  together  a  Church,  but  apply 
that  name  to  the  assembled  believers  themselves."  t 
Nothing  could  show  more  clearly  that  it  was  the  Chris- 
tian community  itself  which  was  regarded  as  the  temple 
of  God,  than  the  constant  use  of  the  word  edification, 
in  reference  to  the  confirmation  and  development  of 
faith.  It  is  the  living  stones  of  the  spiritual  temple 
which  are  thus  to  be  cemented  together.  "  It  is  not 
the  place  which  sanctifies  the  man,  but  the  man  who 
sanctifies  the  place,"  is  the  admirable  comment  of  the 
"Apostolical  Constitutions."  I 

The  opposition  to  the  idea  of  a  sanctuary,  in  the  strict 
sense  of  the  term,  did  not  prevent  the  early  Christians 
from  building  houses  of  prayer  to  serve  the  purpose  of 
worship,  for  it  was  not  possible  that  they  should  be  able 
to  meet  in  private  houses,  except  in  rare  instances,  where 
the  house  had  the  proportions  of  a  spacious  building, 

*  Bingham,  "  Orig."  iv.  p.  71. 

t  Oi;  yap  vvv  tov  tottop,  d\\d  to  oBpomfxa  twv  Ik\(:Ktwv  tKKXrjaiav  koXw. 
Clement  of  Alexandria,  "  Strom."  vii.  5,  29. 

J  Oi'x  6  roTTOQ  yap  tov  av9pit)7rov  dyid^n  aXX'  6  dv9pu)7rog  tov  tottov. 
"Const.  Apost."  viii.  34. 


252  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

as  in  the  case  of  the  Roman  senator,  Pudens."  From 
the  time  of  vSt.  Paul  we  find  the  Christians  of  Ephesus 
assemhling  in  the  hall  used  for  public  instruction  by 
Tyrannus  the  orator.  Justin  Martyr  found  a  similar 
place  in  Rome,  where  he  might  give  instruction  in 
Christianity. t  Clement  of  Alexandria,  in  his  touching 
story  of  the  young  brigand  restored  to  the  Church  by 
St.  John,  supposes  the  existence  of  a  public  place  of 
worship.!  The  Chronicle  of  Edessa  relates  the  de- 
struction of  a  Christian  temple  in  the  great  inundation 
of  203.  §  Subsequently,  under  Alexander  Severus,  the 
Christians  held  at  Rome  buildings  specially  set  apart 
for  their  worship,  which  the  emperor  allowed  them  to 
retain,  in  spite  of  the  clamour  of  the  publicans,  who 
would  have  dispossessed  them.  |i  These  buildings  had 
greatly  multiplied  by  the  time  of  Diocletian.  "Who 
could  count,"  says  Eusebius,  "  these  assemblies  of 
thousands  of  believers  in  each  town,  these  numerous 
gatherings  in  the  houses  of  prayer  in  every  city?  They 
have  become  so  large  that  the  old  buildings  would  no 
longer  suffice,  and  these  have  been  replaced  by  great 
churches."  ^  These  churches  appeared  so  important  to 
the  emperor,  that  he  thought  it  necessary  to  decree 
their  destruction  at  the  same  time  with  that  of  the  Holy 
Scriptures.  "''■'  According  to  Optatus  of  Miletus,  there 
existed  at  Rome,  at  the  beginning  of  the  fourth  century, 

*  "Acta  Pudentis."  An  apocryphal  writing,  the  "Recognitiones,"  which 
belongs  to  the  second  century,  shows  that  a  rich  citizen  of  Antioch  turned 
his  house  into  a  basiHca.  "  Ita  ut  domus  suse  ingentem  basihcam  ecclesiae 
nomine  consecraret. "     "  Recognit. "  x.  71. 

t  "  Acta  Justini."    See  Bingham,  "Orig. "  iii.  28,  29. 

+  Clement  of  Alexandria.  Tig  oujC  .  •  rrXoug.  .  .  .  37.    Eusebius,  "H.E. 
iii.  23.  §  Asseman,  "  Biblioiheca  Orieatalis,"  i.  387. 

II  Lamprid.  "Vita  Alex.  Sever."  c.  49. 

^1  Eusebius,  "  H.E."  viii.  2.  **  Ibid.  v.  i. 


BUILDINGS    DEDICATED    TO    CHRISTIAN    WORSHIP.     253 

more  than  forty  edifices  devoted  to  Christian  worship/'' 
It  is  then  beyond  question  that  such  buildings  had 
greatly  multipHed.  The  passages  we  have  quoted  give 
equal  evidence  that  they  began  from  the  third  century 
to  be  called  churches.  This  expression  is  commonly 
used  by  Tertullian  and  Origen,  without  any  idea  of 
derogating  from  Christian  spirituality,  t  The  term 
house  of  prayer  was  also  in  frequent  use.  +  It  is  far  more 
exact  than  the  word  church,  for  there  was  always  great 
objection  to  applying  to  a  building  of  stone,  the  desig- 
nation which  belongs  really  to  the  spiritual  temple. 
Towards  the  close  of  the  third  century  the  word 
kuriakon  or  Dominicmn  § — the  place  of  the  Lord — came 
into  use.  Thus  a  beautiful  analogy  was  suggested 
between  the  Sunday  and  the  Chj-istian  temple. 

It  was,  however,  in  the  natural  course  of  things  that 
this  elevated  spirituality  should  gradually  lose  its  ori- 
ginal character.  Origen  was  not  unfaithful  to  it  when 
he  acknowledged  that  the  place  where  the  Christians 
assemble  has  about  it  something  helpful  and  beneficial,  [j 
and  that  he  regarded  it  as  the  meeting-place  between 
the  Church  on  earth  and  the  Church  in  heaven,  be- 
tween the  Christians  who   pray  and   the   Saviour  who 

*  Optat.  Milet,  "  De  schismat.  Donat."  ii.  4. 

t  "In  ecclesiam  venire."  Tertullian,  "  De  idolatria,"  7.  "  Tales  sunt  in 
nobis  quorum  fides  hoc  tantummodo  habet  ut  ad  ecclesiam  veniant." 
Origen,   "  In  Josuah  Homil."  X.  3. 

+  Eusebius,  "  H.E."  x.  3.     Comp.  Matt.  xxi.  13;  Mark  xi.  17. 

§  "  In  dominicum  sine  sacrificio  venis."  Cyprian,  "De  opera  et  eleem." 
15;  Eusebius,  "H.E."  ix.  10;  "  De  laude  Constant."  17.  M.  de  Rossi 
quotes  an  elegant  insciiption  describing  the  basilica  of  St.  Clement,  under 
the  name  of  "Dominicum."  This  designation,  according  to  him,  belongs 
to  the  early  years  of  the  fourth  century,  since,  after  that,  the  churches  are 
described  as  "basilicas"  or  "tituli."  Rossi,  "  Bulletino  arch^eol. "  vol.  i. 
i.  p.  25.  The  word  "titulus"  was  taken  from  the  designation  of  "the  priest 
to  whom  the  parish  church  was  appropriated. 

II  Origen,  "  De  oratione, "  c.  31. 


234  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

answers  their  prayer,  and  comes  with  the  angelic  choir 
to  meet  them.     Origen  attached  no  sacredness  to  the 
l)uilding  apart  from  the  spiritual  service  there  offered  : 
it   was  the  prayers  of  saints    which   filled   the   house 
with  a  holy  fragrance,  without  which  the  stones  them- 
selves were  but  common  things.     How  difficult  it  was, 
however,  to  maintain  this  lofty  spirituality,  we  gather 
from  the  reproaches  addressed  by  Clement  of  Alexan- 
dria to  the  Egyptian  Christians.     He  accuses  them  of 
belying  in  their  daily  life  the  gentleness  and  piety  which 
their  faces    exhibited    in  the  hour  of  worship,    as   if, 
like  those  polypi  which  reflect  the  colour  of  the  rocks 
to  which  they  adhere,  they  might  change  their  aspect 
and  practice  as  they  changed  their  place.   "Are  we  not," 
he  says,  '*  sacrificing  reality  to  a   mere   semblance,  if 
we  cast  aside  on  leaving  the  church  the  gravity  and 
sweetness   of  deportment   which  w^e   had    assumed  on 
entering  it,  and  become  again  like  the  worldly  multi- 
tude  around   us?     Those    who  so    act    convict  them- 
selves of  a  lie,  and  show  what  their  real  character  is, 
when    they  thus    throw  aside    the    mask   of   sanctity. 
Surely  we  show  but  little  respect  for  the  Word  of  God 
when  we  hasten  to  put   it  away  from   us   so  soon  as 
heard.'"'' 

This  tendency  to  walk  after  the  flesh  rather  than 
after  the  Spirit,  as  St.  Paul  expresses  it,  developed 
itself  with  terrible  rapidity  when  persecution  was  re- 
laxed, and  the  Church  found  itself  in  a  position  to  rear 
splendid  temples  under  the  sanction  and  with  the  re- 
sources of  the  empire.     Sanctuaries,  or  temples  in  the 

*  ToiovTOVi;  Sk  ixpijv  irap  oXotf  tov  i3iov  ipaiviaOai  tovq  Xpiartp  TiXovf-ie- 
vovQ  o'iovQ  (Tipdg  sv  iKKXtjaiaig  iirl  ru  aiixvortpov  axTH^fTii^ovaiv.  Clement 
of  Alexandria,  "Predag."  iii.  1 1,  80. 


BUILDINGS    DEDICATED    TO    CHRISTIAN    WORSHIP.     255 

Jewish  sense,  reappeared  with  the  restoration  of  holy 
days,  ceremonial  piety,  and  the  hierarchy.  The  move- 
ment of  opinion  which,  in  the  course  of  the  third  cen- 
tury, gradually  transformed  the  primitive  institutions  of 
the  Church,  such  as  the  episcopate,  discipline,  and  the 
sacrament,  operated  in  the  same  direction  with  regard 
to  the  buildings  dedicated  to  worship.  Everything 
was  ready  on  the  eve  of  the  Council  of  Nicsea  for  the 
complete  realisation,  in  externals,  of  the  great  revolu- 
tion already  accomplished  in  the  spirit  of  worship  ;  for 
we  must  never  forget  that  outward  transformations 
are  always  preceded  by  inward  changes,  and  that  this 
holds  good  even  in  relation  to  the  triumph  of  religious 
materialism  over  true  spirituality.  For  the  honour  of 
mankind  be  it  remembered,  that  the  soul  is  never  ir- 
resistibly diagged  along  by  anything  external;  it  falls 
a  victim  only  to  its  own  unfaithfulness  to  the  principles 
that  would  have  secured  its  triumph. 

We  have  no  exact  information  as  to  the  plan  of 
the  houses  of  prayer  before  the  time  of  Constantine  : 
but  the  fragment  of  the  "  Apostolical  Constitutions  ** 
\\hich  contains  details  on  this  subject,'''  although  much 
interpolated,  still  gives  us  some  idea  of  the  principal 
features  of  the  primitive  architecture  of  the  Church,  in 
which  art  was  entirely  subordinated  to  the  religious  idea. 

It  appears  probable  that  the  first  basil  cas  erected 
under  Constantine,  and  of  which  several,  although  they 
have  been  repeatedly  rebuilt,  have  preserved  the 
original  plan,  were  erected  upon  the  model  of  the 
houses  of  prayer  in  the  previous  century,  with  such 
adornments  superadded  as  the  prosperity  of  the  Church 

'  "Const.  Apost."  ii.  57. 


256  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

aided  by  imperial  gold  rendered  possible.  Various  h3'po- 
theses  have  been  founded  upon  the  correlation  always 
existing  between  two  successive  periods,  of  which  the 
second  is,  in  a  measure,  a  continuation  of  the  first. 
It  is  certain  that  the  plan  of  construction  of  the 
churches  of  the  fourth  century  rests  entirely  upon  the 
ecclesiastical  theory  of  the  previous  age,  though  that 
theory  had  lost  all  real  vitality  after  Christianity  had 
become  the  religion  of  the  state.  The  stones  retained, 
longer  than  the  Church  itself,  the  memory  of  the  time 
when  a  high  barrier  was  interposed  between  the  mixed 
multitude  and  the  Christian  converts  who  had  all 
avouched  a  personal  faith  purified  and  strengthened 
by  discipline.  The  architecture  of  the  basilicas  of  the 
fourth  century  bears  the  impress  of  this  grand  idea, 
which  was  actually  realised  in  the  preceding  period. 
To  this  it  owes  the  peculiar  character,  recognisable  in 
the  buildings  which  belong,  at  least  in  their  general 
outline,  to  this  era.  It  follows  that  if  we  confine  our 
attention  to  the  plan  of  these  edifices,  passing  by  the 
abundant  ornamentation  and  embellishment  added  in 
the  days  of  imperial  favour,  we  shall  find,  in  the  few 
churches  which  have  preserved  the  Christian  architec- 
ture of  the  fourth  century,  the  principal  features  of  the 
earlier  buildings.  In  the  East,  three  basilicas  of  the 
time  of  Constantine  are  described  by  Eusebius  in  an 
inflated  tone  of  panegyric.  These  are,  first,  the  Church 
built  at  Tyre,  then  the  Church  of  the  Holy  Sepulchre 
at  Jerusalem,  and,  lastly,  that  of  the  Nativity  at  Beth- 
lehem— all  of  which  retain  their  original   plan.*      In 

*  Eusebius,  "  H.E."  x.  4;   "  V:ta  Constantini,"  iii.  25,  41,  42.     See  the 
work  of  M.  INIelchior  de  Vogue,  "  Les  Eglises  de  la  Tene  Sainte,"  Didron, 


BUILDINGS    DEDICATED    TO    CHRISTIAN    WORSHIP.     25/ 

the  West  we  have,  in  the  Church  of  St.  Clement  at 
Rome,  the  true  type  of  the  basilica  of  the  fourth  cen- 
tury, which  has  been  preserved  through  successive 
reconstructions,  especially  in  the  crypt,  which  is  far 
the  oldest  part.  The  little  basilica  of  St.  Generosa, 
the  remains  of  which  have  been  lately  discovered  under- 
neath the  catacomb  of  the  same  name,  in  the  site 
occupied  by  the  temple  of  the  Brothers  Arvales,  is 
certainly  the  oldest  Christian  monument  that  we  pos- 
sess, but  it  is  too  dilapidated  and  incomplete  to  supply 
any  information  as  reliable  as  that  furnished  by  the 
Church  of  St.  Clement.* 

The  fundamental  idea  in  these  buildings  was  un- 
questionably that  which  forms  the  basis  of  all  the 
ecclesiastical  constitutions  of  the  first  three  centuries, 
namely,  the  entire  separation  of  the  baptised  from  the 
unbaptised,  of  those  who  have  the  right  to  partake  of 
the  sacrament  and  those  who  are  excluded,  whether  as 
not  yet  admitted  .or  as  excommunicate.  The  basilica 
proper  is  approached  by  a  vestibule,  which  is  the  place 
assigned  to  the  mere  hearers  and  to  the  penitents,  who 
are  kept  on  the  threshold  of  the  church  till  its  doors  are 
thrown  open  to  them  after  searching  examination.  We 
find  the  existence  of  this  separation  distinctly  mentioned 
in  several  places  :  ali  the  documents  on  the  subject  of 
ecclesiastical  organisation  from  the  commencement  of 
the  second  century  proceed  on  this  implied  principle. 

1871,  especially  the  remarks  on  the  Church  of  the  Nativity  at  Bethlehem. 
The  Christian  churches  of  Syria,  described  by  P\lr.  Waddington,  are  of 
later  date.  **  Inscriptions  Grecques  et  Latines  de  la  Syrie  expliquees  et 
recueillies,"  by  M.  W.  H.  Waddington,  Member  of  the  Institute.  Paris, 
D.dot,  1870. 

*  Rossi,  "  Bullet ino  archaeol."  1st  year,  p.  25.  See  Bunsen's  important  work 
on  all  the  ancient  basilicas.  '*  Basilikdes  Christlich.  Roms."  Munich,  1842  ; 
and  Dr.  Hubsch's  work,  "Die  altchristlichen  Kirchen. "    Carlsmhe,  1859. 

18 


258  THE    EARLY    CKRiSTIAN    CHURCH, 

They  are  confirmed  by  the  statement  of  Gregory  Than- 
maturgus,  the  disciple  of  Origen,  who  says  distinctly 
that  a  place  was  reserved  for  the  catechumens  and 
penitents  on  the  threshold  of  the  church.  *'The  place 
of  supplication  is  outside  the  house  of  prayer.  There  the 
penitent  sinner,  waiting  without,  is  to  ask  the  prayers 
of  the  faithful  who  enter  the  church."'-'  Gregory  Thau- 
maturgus  places  the  hearers  and  the  catechumens  at 
the  very  door  of  the  house  of  prayer,  and  calls  the  place 
thus  allotted  to  them  the  narthex.f  Tertullian  assigns 
to  them  the  same  position,  and  the  distinction  which  he 
marked  between  those  who  occupied  the  court  and  those 
who  were  permitted  to  stand  on  the  threshold,  shows 
that  as  early  as  his  day  a  portico  was  erected  to  shelter 
the  latter  class. 1 

If  we  pass  on  to  the  basilica  itself,  we  shall  find  that 
its  arrangement  is  in  harmony  with  the  principles  of  the 
preceding  period  in  all  which  distinguishes  it  from  a 
pagan  temple.  Those  temples  were  designed  to  be  the 
shrine  of  the  god  or  idol ;  they  were  complete  when  they 
had  provided  a  pedestal  for  the  statue  and  an  altar  for  sa- 
crifice. The  Christian  Church,  on  the  contrary,  was 
dedicated  to  the  worship  of  a  God  who  is  Spirit,  and 
whom  it  cannot  contain  ;  it  is  to  be  open  to  all  the 
faithful,  that  together  they  may  worship,  listen  to  the 
reading  and  exposition  of  the  Scriptures, §  and  partake  of 

*  'H  TrpoaicXavrnQ  t^u)  Tiic  7rvXr]g  rov  evtcrriptov'  rj  aKpoamg  tvSoOi.  tTiq 
TTvXrjs  tv  Tip  vdp9)}Ki.  Greg.  Thaumat.  "  Ep.  canon."  c.  iij  Eusebius, 
"H.  E."  X.  4. 

t  The  woicl  narthex  sigr.ifies  a  ferule,  and  represents  an  enclosure  much 
longer  than  it  is  wide. 

\  "  Reliquas  autem  libidinum  furias  non  modo  limine  verum  omni 
ecclesise  tecto  submovemus."     Tertullian,  "  De  pudicit."  4. 

§  By  these  various  uses,  the  house  of  prayer,  in  primitive  times,  in 
many  ways  recalled  the  synagogue,  though  it  differed  from  it  in  other  re- 


BUILDINGS    DEDICATED    TO    CHRISTIAN    WORSHIP.     259 

the  eucharistic  feast.  It  must  therefore  enclose  a  large 
area,  which,  even  before  the  addition  of  naves,  was  so 
divided,  that  the  men  should  be  separated  from  the 
women.* 

The  worship,  if  we  omit  the  singing  of  hymns,  for 
which  no  special  arrangement  was  required,  consisted 
of  two  distinct  parts;  first,  the  reading  of  the  Word  of 
God,  followed  by  the  teaching  or  preaching,  which  was 
entrusted  mainly  to  the  bishop,  and  then  the  celebration 
of  the  Lord's  Supper.  A  high  desk  was  placed  for  the 
reader ;  t  the  bishop  had  his  pulpit,  J  and  as  the  elders  or 
priests  werehis  coadjutorsinall  things, it  was  convenient 
that  they  should  be  grouped  around  him.§  We  thus  get 
the  first  nucleus  of  a  choir,  with  its  desks  or  anibones,  \\ 
and  its  cathedra  or  episcopal  seat.  The  altar,  properly 
so-called,  of  later  ages,  has  as  yet  no  existence  ;  in  its 
place  the  eucharistic  table  occupies  the  centre  of  this 
elementary  choir,  which  has  not  received  as  yet  any 
particular  name.^  The  table  is  of  wood  and  without 
ornamentation.**  It  is,  in  fact,  simply  the  table  for 
the  Lord's  Supper,  and  presents  no  analogy  to  the  altar 
of  sacrifice  in  the  Jewish    sanctuary.      This  is   made 

spects.  Hence  it  may  have  been  designated  by  this  name,  to  which  the 
dispersion  of  the  Jews  would  give  so  wide  a  familiarity.  This  may  be 
inferred  from  the  curious  inscription  discovered  by  Mr.  Waddington,  not 
far  from  Damascus,  on  a  religious  building  dating  from  the  year  318.  It 
runs  thus:  "Synagogue  of  the  Marcionites."  Such  a  name  would  hardly 
have  been  given  to  its  place  of  worship  by  a  sect  which  held  Judaism  in 
such  ?bhorrence,  if  it  had  not  come  into  common  use  among  Christians. 

*  A\  yvvcCiKcQ  Ktx^opi<yi.ih'Mg.      "  Const.  Apost. "  ii.  57. 

t  Puipitum.     Cyprian,  "  Ep."  38,  2. 

I 'O  rov  i-KWKoirov  Opovog.  *' Const.  Apost."  ii.  57.  Pastor  Hermas 
speaks  of  the  cathedra,  lib.  i.  visio  iii.  1 1. 

§  Eusebius,  "H.E."vii.  30;  Ilap' tKarepa  f^povov)  KaOe^kaQu}  to  Trpea- 
(^VTspiov.      "Const,  apost."  ii.  57. 

II  Ambon  comes  from  ava^aivio,  to  mount. 

*\\  Eusebius,  "  H.E."  10,  4.  **  Augustine,  "  Ep.  50  ad  Bonifat." 

tQ  * 


260  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

perfectly  plain  by  the  fact  that  the  communicants,  men 
and  women,  gathered  around  it  for  the  Lord's  Sup- 
per, and  took  the  bread  and  the  cup  into  their  own 
hands.*  Subsequently  the  house  of  prayer,  while  re- 
producing the  same  type  on  a  larger  scale,  approaches 
more  nearly  to  the  great  pagan  basilicas ;  columns  and 
naves  are  multiplied ;  in  the  elevation  of  the  choir  we 
trace  the  progress  of  the  sacerdotal  theory,  and  the 
eucharistic  table  is  gradually  transformed  into  an 
altar  of  sacrifice,  under  the  influence  of  the  sacramen- 
tarian  ideas  fostered  by  Cyprian. t 

We  are  still  able,  however,  by  the  aid  of  the  basilicas 
of  the  fourth  century,  which  are  a  sort  of  commentary 
on  an  obscure  text,  to  represent  to  ourselves  in  some 
measure  what  were  the  edifices  used  for  Christian  wor- 
ship in  the  m.iddle  of  the  third  century.  The  circular 
form,  so  well  adapted  to  the  pagan  temple,  which  had 
no  other  purpose  than  to  be  the  shrine  of  the  god,  was 
abandoned  for  the  oblong.  Until  the  reign  of  Constan- 
tine,  when  the  cruciform  structure  was  adopted,  the 
churches  were  built  in  the  form  of  a  vessel,  directed 
generally  towards  the  east,  as  the  quarter  where  the 
new  light  had  arisen.:];  The  building  was  divided  into 
three  parts  :  ist.  The  portico,  where  stood  the  penitents 
and  those  who  were  hearers  only;  2nd.  The  nave,  di- 
vided into  two  sections,  to  be  occupied  b}  the  believers, 
male  and  female  separately  ;  3rd.   The  rudiment  of  the 

*  TpaTTsZy  TraparrrdvTa  Kai  x^^P"^  ^'?  vttoSoxvv  TiJQ  ayiaq  rpo^ijg  Trpo- 
TiivavTa.     Dionysius  of  Alexandria  ^/;/^  Eusebius,  "  H.  E."  vii.  9. 

t  TpdTTf^a  Kvp'iov.  I  Cor.  x.  21;  Augustine,  "ArchiEol."  i.  p.  413; 
ii,  611.  The  altars  were  still  of  wood  in  the  time  of  Constantine.  Cyprian 
already  gives  the  name  altar  to  the  eucharistic  table.  *'  Quasi  post  aras 
diaboli  accedere  ad  altare  Dei  fas  sit."     "  Ep."  65.  I. 

X   Eoucf  vr)i.  .  .  KUT  avarokcLQ.     "Const.  Apost."  ii.  57. 


BUILDINGS    DEDICATED    TO    CHRISTIAN    WORSHIP.    261 

present  choir,  with  the  pulpit  for  the  bishop,  and  the 
seats  for  the  elders  placed  in  a  semicircle.  The  table 
for  the  Eucharist  and  the  reader's  desk  stood  between 
the  choir  and  the  space  occupied  by  the  faithful.  The 
offerings  of  the  latter  were  laid  upon  a  second  table 
placed  on  the  right  of  the  table  of  the  Eucharist.*  A 
cistern  was  often  made  in  the  portico  for  the  convenience 
of  ablutions,  which  were  however  not  compulsory  ;  f 
for  a  long  time  a  place  was  reserved  within  the  church 
itself  for  the  baptismal  font.  No  images  were  allowed 
in  the  place  devoted  to  worship.  When  the  attempt 
was  made  to  introduce  into  the  house  of  prayer  the 
symbolical  representations  used  in  the  catacombs,  it 
was  severely  condemned  by  a  decree  of  the  Council  of 
Elvira,  t  The  Church  would  sanction  nothing  which 
might  distract  the  eyes  of  the  worshipper.  She  loved 
to  liken  the  house  of  prayer  to  Noah's  ark.  Its  purpose 
was  not  to  serve  as  a  sumptuous  abode,  but  to  bear  the 
Christians  safely  above  the  surging  floods  of  persecution 
and  temptation.-  It  was  to  be  a  lifeboat,  not  a  pleasure 
boat.  Christian  art,  as  we  shall  see,  sought  freer  ex- 
pression for  itself  in  the  catacombs,  to  counteract  the 
gloomy  appearance  of  death. 

It  did  not  fear  to  arch  the  sepulchral  vault  and  cover 
it  with  frescoes.  We  shall  find  the  same  methods  trans- 
ferred to  the  temples,  and  used  under  the  full  light 
-^f  the  sun,  when  the  faith  of  Christ  has  ceased  to  be 

*  This  table  to  receive  the  gifts  was  called  Traaro^opiov,  or  table  of  offer- 
ings.     "  Const.  Apost."  viii.  15. 

t  Eusebius,  "  H.  E."  x.  4;  Tertullian.  "Deorat."  ii.  He  blames  the 
use  of  ablutions,  as  a  custom  borrowed  from  Mosaism. 

J  "  Ne  quod  colitur  et  adoratur  in  parietibus  depingatur."  "Concil. 
Illibert."  c.  33. 


262  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

a  proscribed  thing.  Thus,  with  some  modifications, 
due  chiefly  to  change  of  circumstances,  Christian  art 
may  still  be  true  to  its  early  traditions  while  construct- 
ing those  noble  basilicas  of  the  fourth  century,  which 
still  claim  our  admiration  even  after  the  marvels  of 
mediaeval  art. 


'^3 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE    CELEBRATION    OF    WORSHIP    IN    THE    SECOND    AND 

THIRD-  CENTURIES ITS    TRANSFORMATION     DURING 

THIS    PERIOD. 

§  I. — Public   Worship  in  the  Time  of  Justin  Martyr 
and  of  Irenceus. 

Public  worship  in  the  second  century  is  simply  the 
amplification  of  privale  worship,  and  contains  no  other 
elements.  In  the  time  of  Justin  Martyr  and  of  Irenseus 
it  has  all  the  moral  hcauty  and  spirituality  which  cha- 
racterised it  in  the  upper  chambers  of  the  apostolic 
af;e.  It  is  at  once  a  spiritual  sacrihce  and  a  Eucharist 
— the  thankoffcring  of  the  Christian  heart  to  God  for 
that  full  salvation  which  leaves  nothing  to  be  sup- 
plemented. The  Lord's  Supper  is  the  centre  and 
crown  of  the  whole  worship  ;  all  the  earlier  part  of  the 
service  is  but  a  preparation  for  its  celebration  at  the 
close.  While  this  remains  the  S3^mbolical  expression 
of  the  spiritual  sacrifice,  worship  retains  its  primitive 
purity.  The  sacrifice  is  real,  precisely  in  proportion  to 
its  spiritualit}^ ;  the  true  offering  is  always  that  of  the 
heart,  of  the  will,  of  the  whole  being.  When  the  Lord's 
Supper  is  regarded  as  a  purely  external  act,  in  which 
the  bread  and  wine  are  offered  to  God  instead  of  the 


264  THE    EARLY   CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

living  sacrifice  of  the  Christian  himself,  we  are  carried 
at  once  into  the  region  of  fiction.  The  sacrifice;  ceasing 
to  be  real,  has  no  longer  any  meaning;  the  Lord's  Sup- 
per is  only  truly  a  spiritual  sacrifice,  so  long  as  it  retains 
its  eucharistic  character  as  a  thanksgiving  for  the  sal- 
vation already  finished.*  In  k-uth,  when  the  Christian 
begins  to  doubt  the  Divine  forgiveness,  and  seeks  to 
appease  God  by  ritual  observances,  he  falls  back  from 
the  covenant  of  the  gospel  into  the  old  covenant  with 
its  expiatory  sacrifices ;  and  as  he  dare  no  longer  offer 
the  blood  of  bulls  and  of  goats,  he  comes  to  believe  that 
the  sacrifice  of  Calvary  needs  to  be  constantly  repeated, 
like  the  Mosaic  sacrifices,  in  order  to  answer  the  de- 
mands of  God's  justice,  which  was  not  once  and  for  ever 
satisfied  on  the  cross.  The  Christian,  under  this  view, 
learns  to  think  far  less  of  the  sacrifice  of  himself  which 
he  should  present,  than  of  this  ever  renewed  offering  of 
the  body  of  Christ.  The  Lord's  Supper  ceases  to  be  the 
great  thankoffering  of  the  Church,  yielding  herself  to 
Him  who  has  wrought  out  for  her  a  full  redemption:  it 
becomes  the  partial  expiation  of  sin,  needing  to  be  re- 
peated again  and  again.  In  ceasing  to  be  a  Eucharist 
it  ceases  to  be  a  spiritual  sacrifice  at  all,  and  the  entire 
service  changes  its  character;  it  becomes  what  is  called 
the  mystery  of  the  altar,  instead  of  being  the  sublime 
interchange  of  love  between  the  redeemed  and  pardoned 
Church  and  the  heavenly  Bridegroom. 

The  second  century  knows  nothing  of  this  transforma- 
tion of  Christianity,  which  begins  to  become  apparent 

*  We  rlo  not  touch  here  on  the  question  of  transubstantiation  or  con- 
Ruhstantiation.  We  are  not  treating  of  the  elements  of  the  Lord's  Supper, 
but  on -y  of  the  nature  of  ihe  sacrifice  itself  therein  presented  to  God. 


PUBLIC    WORSHIP.  265 

towards  the  close  of  the  third.  This  is  evident  from 
that  declaration  of  Justin  Martyr  which  might  serve  as 
the  epigraph  of  the  faithful  picture  drav^n  by  him  of 
public  v^orship  in  his  day.  He  says  of  the  Christians  : 
"  We  are  the  true  sacerdotal  race,  and  God  receives  no 
sacrifices  but  from  His  priests.  God  owns  as  accept- 
able sacrifices  to  Him  those  offerings  which  are  pre- 
sented by  Christians  throughout  the  world  in  the  name 
of  His  Son,  and  according  to  His  appointment  in  the 
eucharistic  feast  of  bread  and  wine.  I  declare  that  the 
prayers  and  thanksgivings  presented  by  those  who  have 
the  right  to  offer  them  are  the  sole  sacrifices  which  God 
owns  and  accepts."*  In  order  clearly  to  mark  the 
eucharistic  character  of  these  offerings,  Justin  Martyr 
adds  that  they  are  presented  in  recognition  of  the  good- 
ness of  God,  both  in  the  kingdom  of  nature,  in  which 
His  liberal  hand  has  prepared  all  that  is  necessary  for 
our  sustenance,  and  in  the  kingdom  of  grace,  in  which 
He  has  wrought  out  our  full  redemption  by  the  suffer- 
ings of  His  Son.t  It  is  evident  that  Justin  Martyr  con- 
siders the  one  essential  sacrifice  to  be  that  of  prayer, 
which  ascends  to  God  in  acknowledgment  of  His  bene- 
fits, spiritual  and  temporal.  The  Lord's  Supper  is  the 
highest  symbolic  expression  of  this  adoration  of  the 
heart.  Now,  what  is  the  sacrifice  of  prayer  if  it  be  not 
the  sacrifice  of  the  heart,  the  voluntary  surrender  to 
God  of  the  soul  that  prays  ?  and  in  the  same  way 
united  prayer  is  the  unreserved  consecration  to  God  of 
the  whole  Christian  people.     This  is  the  grand  idea 

*  "Ori.  [Xfv  ovv  Kai  evxcn  ^O'  ev^apiCFTiai,  vtto  tu!V  a^iwv  yivonevai,  HXeiai 
fiovat  Kai  tvapEnroi  dai  np  9«{}  Ovcriai,  Kai  auTOQ  (prif.u.  Justin,  "  Dial.  c. 
Tryph."  c.  116.  t  fustin,  "'Apol."i.  67. 


266  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

which  pervades  and  penetrates  all  the  worship  of  this 
period,  and  which  loses  nothing  of  its  purity  as  it 
unfolds  itself  in  successive  acts  of  devotion. 

In  chapters  Ixv.  to  Ixvii.  of  his  *' Apology,"  Justin 
has  drawn  a  very  complete  picture  of  Christian  worship 
as  it  was  celebrated  in  his  day.  It  will  be  well  to  quote 
this  important  passage,  which  is  our  chief  authority 
on  the  subject.  It  runs  thus:  "On  the  day  which  is 
called  Sunday  all  the  Christians  inhabiting  the  town  or 
the  country  assemble  in  the  same  place.  The  Acts  of 
the  Apostles  and  the  writings  of  the  prophets  are  read, 
as  time  permits.  Then,  when  the  reader  has  finished, 
the  president  of  the  assembly  delivers  an  exhortation, 
charging  his  hearers  to  imitate  the  holy  examples  set 
before  them.  Then  the  whole  assembly  rises  at  once, 
and  united  prayer  ascends  to  God.  After  the  prayer, 
bread  is  brought  and  wine  mixed  with  water.  The 
president  then  in  his  turn  presents  prayers  and  praises 
to  God,  as  he  is  able,  and  all  the  people  say  Amen. 
When  the  Eucharist  has  been  distributed  every  believer 
partakes  of  it,  and  the  deacons  carry  it  to  those  who 
are  absent.  The  Christians  who  possess  worldly  goods 
bring  a  free-will  offering  in  proportion  to  their  means. 
All  these  gifts  are  collected  and  placed  in  the  hands  of 
the  president,  who,  by  this  means,  supplies  the  needs 
of  the  widows  and  orphans,  of  the  sick,  of  prisoners  and 
strangers,  and  all  those  who,  from  any  other  cause,  are 
in  want.     He  is  thus  the  helper  of  all  the  needy."* 

If,  without  pressing  the  details,  we  try  to  realise 
from  this  passage  what  was  the  worship  of  the  second 
century,  we  shall  observe  first  of  all  that  it  is  divided 

*  Justin,  '' Apol."  i.  67. 


PUBLIC    WORSHIP.  267 

into  distinct  parts,  the  religious  service  preceding  the 
communion  and  the  eucharistic  meal.  It  is  import- 
ant, however,  to  note  that  this  division  of  worship 
into  two  parts  is  not  yet  as  strongly  marked  as  it 
afterwards  becomes,  when  the  Eucharist  is  celebrated 
as  a  mystery,  to  be  hidden  from  eyes  profane,  when 
the  hearers  and  catechumens  are  dismissed  before 
the  feast  begins,  and  when  the  s'everest  discipline 
is  exercised  to  prevent  the  intrusion  of  any  but  those 
who  have  passed  through  their  three  years'  probation. 
There  is  nothing  in  the  account  given  by  Justin  Martyr 
which  could  suggest  any  such  separation  in  his  day.  It 
would  rather  appear  as  if,  at  that  time,  all  who  took 
part  in  the  first  service  had  a  right  to  remain  as  spec- 
tators of  the  second,  though  it  is  well  ascertained  that 
none  but  the  baptised  partook  of  the  eucharistic  meal. 
God  recognises  no  priests  but  Christians.*  It  follows 
that  the  celebration  of  public  worship  in  the  second 
century  was  evidently  of  a  less  solemn  character  than 
in  the  following  period  ;  it  was  less  removed  from  the 
common  life  and  private  devotion  of  the  Christians. 
We  shall  see  what  serious  consequences  followed  on 
the  absolute  separation,  which  was  made  half  a  century 
later,  between  the  two  parts  of  the  service,  and  hence 
between  the  baptised  and  those  who  were  hearers  only. 
According  to  Justin,  worship  commenced  with  the  read- 
ing of  the  sacred  books.  It  is  probable  that  in  harmony 
with  the  constant  practice  of  the  Church,  as  it  appears 
in  its  oldest  liturgical  documents,  this  reading  was 
preceded  by  an  invocation  or  the  singing  of  a  psalm. 
We   can    hardly    suppose,    while  no    meal   was  taken 

•  "Dial.  c.  Tryph."c.  116. 


268  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

in  the  family  until  the  father  had  given  thanks,  that  the 
Christians  would  gather  around  the  table  of  the  Lord, 
laden  with  His  most  precious  gifts,  without  thanks- 
giving and  pra3'er.  The  assembly  met  under  the  pre- 
sidency of  a  bishop  or  elder,  who  undertook  the  general 
supervision  and  direction.  The  simple  designation, 
president,  which  suggests  nothing  clerical,  shows  that 
as  yet  sacerdotalism  was  unknown  in  the  Church. 
After  the  first  hymn,  the  reader  rose  and  opened  the 
Scriptures,  as  was  done  every  Sabbath  day  in  the 
synagogues  of  the  dispersed  Jews.  The  Old  Testament 
was  not  considered  enough,  the  apostolic  writings  had 
also  their  place  in  the  service,  especially  the  Gospels 
and  the  Acts.  The  passages  to  be  read  are  not  as  yet 
appointed  beforehand  by  a  fixed  plan,  for  the  length 
of  the  reading  depends  on  the  length  of  time  which  may 
be  available.*' 

After  the  reading  comes  the  preaching,  which  is 
undertaken  by  the  president  of  the  assembly,  laymen 
not  being  excluded,  as  is  shown  very  distinctly  by 
passages  already  quoted.  The  preaching  is  evidently 
based  upon  the  portion  of  Scripture  which  has  been 
read  ;  it  is  not  an  oratorical  or  philosophic  harangue  ; 
it  is  strictly  a  part  of  worship,  and  has  a  directly  prac- 
tical aim,  urging  upon  the  hearers  to  follow  in  the 
footsteps  of  the  apostles  and  prophets,  t 

The  first  part  of  the  service,  which  is  in  reality  only 
introductory,  concludes  with  prayer.  The  assembly 
rises  in  a  body,  to  show  that  the  prayer  is  a  collective 

*  Ta  cnronvrifiopsvixaTa  TuJv  ciTTorrroXiov  i]  rd  (Tv/ypcifJiua-a  tCjv  7rpo!pi]Tioi> 
dvayn>u)!TKfTca  i^tsxpi^  tyX^'^P^^-     Justin,  "ApoI,"i.  67. 

t  'O  TTpoKTrihg  ha  Xoyov  t))v  vov-)^aiav  Kal  TrpoKXrjmv  rij'-  nov  Ka\o,v 
TOVTioi'  fxi}xi]atii}c,  Troulrai.      Ibitl. 


PUBLIC    WORSHIP.  269 

act.*  It  is  commenced  in  solemn  silence ;  the  Church 
holds  itself  still  before  God,  but  this  silence  has  a  voice; 
it  goes  up  to  heaven  in  groanings  which  cannot  be 
uttered,  in  supplications  not  the  less  ardent  because 
they  are  unexpressed. t  Yet  silence  alone  would  be  ina- 
dequate, for  as  Justin  himself  says,  the  Church  has 
requests  which  it  is  bound  to  present  to  God,  and 
which  are  most  fitly  uttered  in  the  first  part  of  the  ser- 
vice, since  they  have  no  direct  connection  with  the 
Eucharist.  Such  are  the  prayers  for  kings,  for  ene- 
mies and  persecutors,  and  those  also  for  the  consolation 
and  sanctification  of  believers.  This  intercessory 
prayer  is  distinct  from  the  thanksgiving,  which  is 
properly  eucharistic.  I  To  this  stage  in  the  service 
is  assigned  the  prayer  by  acclamation,  mentioned  in 
the  same  canon  of  the  Council  of  Laodicea.§  But  as 
an  acclamation  can  be  only  a  refrain,  it  is  probable 
that  the  president  or  a  deacon  briefly  enumerated  the 
subjects  of  prayer,  and  the  assembly  responded  by 
acclamation,  as  by  the  Amen  to  the  closing  prayers. 

This  first  part  of  the  worship  is  not  yet  as  fully 
developed  as  it  is  subsequently,  when  the  unbaptised 
are  required  to  leave  before  the  celebration  of  the 
Lord's  Supper.  At  the  conclusion  of  the  first  service, 
the  Eucharist,  properly  so  called,  begins.  As  this  is 
to  be  at  once  the  feast  of  brotherly  charity  and  of 
Divine  love,  it  is  opened  by  the  kiss  of  peace,  which 

*  'ETTeira  dviaTafxeOa  KOivy  iravrtq  Kal  ivx^lQ  Trsfnroixev.  Justin,  "  Apol." 
i.  67. 

t  The  custom  of  silent  prayer  is  confirmed  by  Decree  19  of  the  Council 
of  Laodicea.  To,v  -marMV  rpelg  tvx^d,  irpMTrjv  via  (nujTrfjg,  See  Augustine, 
"  Archaeol,"  ii.  57.  I  Harnack,  pp.  248,  249. 

§  Tqv  Se  cevrkpav  Koi  Tp'irqv  Sia  Trpofffpcovqoiujr.  iVugustine,  "  Archseol. " 
ii.  57- 


270  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

seals  the  sacred  and  tender  union  of  the  proscribed 
Christians,  who  find  themselves  the  objects  of  so  much 
hatred  as  soon  as  they  cross  the  threshold  of  the  house 
of  prayer.  *  Love  which  does  not  act  is  not  sincere. 
The  kiss  of  peace  would  be  hypocrisy  or  a  vain  form 
if  it  were  not  accompanied  by  a  substantial  token  of 
love.  It  is  at  this  moment,  therefore,  that  the  com- 
municants bring  their  offerings,  and  lay  them  at  the 
feet  of  the  president  of  the  assembly.!  How  could 
they  sit  down  at  the  table  of  their  common  Father, 
where  the  boundlessness  of  His  benefits  is  so  plainly 
set  forth,  if  they  forgot  their  brethren  in  distress  ?  The 
bread  and  wine  of  the  Lord's  Supper  recal  the  body  and 
blood  of  the  Lord :  is  not  that  sacred  body  still  present 
with  the  Church,  as  He  Himself  says,  in  the  persons 
of  the  poor  ?  Has  He  not  said  that  whatsoever  is  done 
to  the  poor,  the  hungry,  the  naked,  is  done  unto  Him- 
self? This  real  presence  of  the  body  of  Christ  in  the 
poor  has  always  been  especially  felt  by  the  Church  at 
the  Lord's  Supper  ;  hence  this  has  been  made  tl^e 
occasion  of  her  most  generous  offerings. 

The  first  and  chief  of  these  offerings  was  the  bread 
and  wine  of  the  mystical  feast  which  were  brought  by 
the  Christians.!  Especially  worthy  of  notice  here  is 
the  close  union  so  admirably  maintained  in  prim- 
itive Christianity  between  nature  and  grace,  between 
the  God  of  creation  and  the  God  of  redemption,  whom 
Gnostic  dualism  opposed  to  one  another. 

The  bread  and  the  wine  of  the  Holy  Communion  are 

'AWyXovg  <pi\rinaTi  acFTraKofitOa  Travo-a/^gvoi  tu>v  ivx^v.   [ustin,  "Apol." 
i.  65.  t  ibid.  i.  67. 

\  Upo<T(p{:peTai  Kal  olvoQ  kox  vdo)p.     Ibid. 


PUBLIC    WORSHIP.  271 

regarded  as  the  first-fruits  of  creation  ;  they  are  pre- 
sented to  God  in  acknowledgment  of  His  fatherly 
providence,  which,  in  ripening  the  corn  and  the  fruitful 
vine,  provides  for  man  his  daily  sustenance.  We  have 
thus,  as  it  were,  the  Eucharist  of  nature,  which  is  to 
hecome  further  the  Eucharist  of  grace,  for  this  sub- 
ordinate use  of  the  symbolism  detracts  nothing  from 
its  higher  significance  as  setting  forth  the  crucified 
body  of  the  Redeemer.  Justin  unites  the  two  in  the 
following  manner.  "  The  Christians,"  he  says,  "offer 
no  other  sacrifice  than  that  of  the  Lord's  Supper,  in 
recognition  that  they  receive  their  daily  food  and  drink 
from  God,  and  in  the  remembrance  of  the  suffering  of 
the  Son  of  God  endured  for  them."*  Therefore  the  bread 
of  the  Lord's  Supper  is  an  ordinary  loaf  before  its  con- 
secration, for  it  is  to  representthe  daily  bread  which 
is  the  basis  of  our  bodily  strength,  as  the  broken  body 
of  Christ  is  the  basis  of  our  higher  life. 

Irengeus  has  followed  out  the  same  train  of  thought 
with  singular  boldness.  The  faithful,  when  they  bring 
the  bread  and  wine  of  the  Lord's  Supper,  offer  first  to 
God  the  first-fruits  of  creation  :  not  that  He  needs  a 
gift,  but  simply  to  mark  their  gratitude  to  Him  who 
has  ordained  that  the  earth  shall  bring  forth  these 
fruits  for  our  sustenance. t  "  We  are  bound,"  he  says, 
"  to  bring  an  oblation  to  God,  and  to  show  ourselves 
in  all  things  grateful  to  the  Creator,  offering  Him  in 
purity  and  sincerity  of  faith,  in   firmness   of  hope,  in 

*  Tavrn  yap  j^iova  Kai  Xpi(TTia;^()i  7rapt\a€op  Troialv,  Kal  Itt  avafxvr](TU  de 
Ttjc;  rpoipriQ  aVTCJV  K^lpag  re  Kal  vypaq  tv  y  Kai  tov  ttciQovq,  0  7rt7rov9e  di 
avTOVQ  u  vide  TOV  Qfoii,  fi8i.ivr]Tai.     Justin,  "  Dial.  c.  Tryph."  c.  1 17. 

t  "  Offerre  primitias  Deo  ex  suis  creaturis."  Irenaius,  "Adv.  haeres." 
iv.  17,  18. 


272  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

warmth  of  love,  the  first-fruits  of  the  gifts  which  we 
receive  through  His  bounty  in  creation."  Irenseus 
goes  even  further,  for  he  sees  in  creation,  especially  in 
the  corn  and  the  vine,  the  first  incarnation,  as  it  were, 
of  the  creative  Word.  He  does  not  place  this  first  in- 
carnation on  the  same  level  with  the  second,  but  he 
does  attach  great  importance  to  it,  in  order  to  show 
that  the  heretics  who  see  in  the  work  of  the  six  days 
only  the  accursed  production  of  an  evil  power,  fall  into 
blasphemous  error."'  Thus  the  present  is  linked  on  to 
the  past,  and  the  Christians  perpetuate  one  of  the  most 
beautiful  practices  of  the  ancient  Jewish  worship,  as 
they  thus  offer  to  God  the  first-fruits  of  the  earth  on 
which  He  has  made  His  sun  to  shine  and  His  fertilis- 
ing dew  to  fall.  Such  was  the  offertory  of  the  Church 
in  the  second  century. 

When  the  bread  and  wine  had  been  placed  on  the 
table,  the  bishop,  as  president  and  representative  of  the 
assembly,  pronounced  two  prayers,  f  Those  present 
signified  their  assent  to  his  words  by  the  Amen,  in 
which  all  voices  united.  1  As  themselves  priests  and 
sons  of  God,  they  knew  no  high  priest  but  Jesus  Christ. 
Hence  they  used  their  right  to  take  part  directly  in 
this  prayer,  which  is,  as  Justin  strongly  expresses  it,§ 
pre-eminently  the  sacerdotal  act.  Irenseus  is  equally 
explicit  on  this  point.  According  to  him,  God  has 
appointed  in  the  gospel  days  a  new  sacrifice,  of  which 
Christians   are   the   spiritual   priests.      Their   offerings 

*  See  these  passages  from  IreiiKus,  and  the  remarks  on  them,  in  "  Early 
Years  of  Christianity,"  vol.    iii.    "Heresy  and   Christian  Doctrine,"  pp. 

395-399. 

t  'O  TrpoeardiQ  evx"Q  ofio'uoQ  Kal  EvxapicrriaQ  avaTrsfiTrn.     Justm,  "  jApol. 
i.  67.  I  Kal  6  Xabg  tTrfv^rjuei  Xeywv  ro  cifxrjv.      Ibid. 

§  Justin,  "Dial.  c.  Tryph."  116,  117. 


PUBLIC    WORSHIP.  273 

are  prayer  and  praise,  the  fruit  of  the  lips,  their 
body — in  a  word,  their  whole  being.  Thus  the  sacrifice 
of  the  Eucharist  is  not  carnal,  but  spiritual,  and  it  is 
by  this  grand  characteristic  that  its  purity  is  main- 
tained.* 

In  the  second  century  the  eucharistic  prayer  became 
greatly  amplified,  though  it  had  not  yet  assumed  a 
liturgical  character.  It  was  entirely  free,  and  was  left, 
as  Justin  expressly  tells  us,  to  the  discretion  or  capa- 
city of  the  officiator.  f  Addressing  God  first  of  all  as 
the  Father  of  all  creatures,  it  blessed  Him  for  the  ful- 
ness of  His  gifts,  enumerating  first  the  gifts  of  nature. 
Justin  reverts  more  than  once  in  his  writings  to  this 
idea.  He  says  explicitly  that  the  Christians  delight  to 
praise  the  Creator,  as  far  as  they  are  able,  in  their 
eucharistic  prayers,  for  all  the  benefits  bestowed  upon 
them,  not  casting  to  the  flames,  as  the  pagans  do  in 
their  sacrifices,  that  which  was  intended  by  God  to 
sustain  the  life  of  His  creatures.  |  This  first  prayer 
concludes  with  a  doxology.  "  The  president  presents 
praise  and  thanksgiving  to  God,  the  Father  of  all,  in 
the  name  of  the  Son  and  the  Holy  Ghost."  When 
this  prayer  has  been  closed  by  the  Amen  of  the  people, 
the  bishop  utters  another,  which  is  properly  the  conse- 
cration prayer.  It  is  certain  that  this  was  in  constant 
use  in  the  Church  before  the  Council  of  Nicsea.  We 
find  it  in  several  forms  in  the  "  Apostolical  Constitu- 
tions "  and  in  the  early  liturgies.    Justin  speaks,  in  his 

*  Afon  Kal  7)  Trpoffpopd  rfjg  EvxapiaTiag  ovk  tan  trapKiicr],  aXXa  TrviVfiauKi) 
Kai  tv  TOVTO)  KuQapd.      "  Fragment  of  Pfafif. 

f'Oar]  ovvafiiQ  avT({).     Justin,  "  Apol."  i.  67. 

I  Td  vfi'  eiceivov  eIq  diarpo^rjv  yevofisva  ov  irvpi  dcnravdv,  dWd  roig  deoiik' 
voig  7rpo(7<p£pHV.     Ibid.  "Dial.  c.  Tryph."  67. 

^9 


274  I'HH    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

Dialogue  with  Trypho,  of  the  "  consecration  of  the 
Eucharist,  which  takes  place  at  the  moment  when  the 
bread  and  wine  are  distributed." "  This  eucharistic 
act  was  performed  just  as  the  assembly  was  about  to 
partake  of  the  sacrament.  It  has  been  asserted,  but 
upon  no  authority,  that  it  consisted  only  of  the  Lord's 
Prayer. f  It  would  more  probably  be  the  solemn  repe- 
tition of  the  very  words  of  the  institution  of  the  Lord's 
Supper ;  |  it  was  certainly  not  any  special  benediction 
of  the  elements  themselves. 

When  the  sacred  words  have  been  pronounced,  the 
bread  is  handed  round,  and  the  cup  of  wine,  which  has 
been  mixed  with  water,  is  passed  from  one  to  another. 
This  is  the  moment  of  peculiar  sacredness.  We  do  not 
deny  that  Justin  and  Irenaeus,  in  the  fervour  of  their 
mysticism,  have  employed  expressions  which  may  seem 
to  favour  the  idea  of  the  transformation  of  the  elements, 
though  it  would  be  easy  to  quote  others  of  an  opposite 
tendency.  We  have  already  considered  these  conflict- 
ing expressions  in  treating  of  their  doctrine,  and  have 
come  to  the  conclusion  that  their  theory  on  this  point 
was  indeterminate  and  vague.  Be  this  as  it  may,  how- 
ever, it  is  certain,  from  their  own  declarations,  that  the 
Eucharist  was  never  regarded  by  them  as  a  material 
sacrifice,  offered  to  God  as  the  renewal  of  the  sacrifice 

*  Erxaptariav  tiri  ttoXv  Tioiflv.  Justin,  "  Dial.  c.  Try  ph."  65  ;  Hamack's 
Works,  quoted,  p.  169, 

t  Bunsen,  "  Hippolytus,"  vol.  ii.  p.  180.  The  recitation  of  the  Lord's 
Prayer  would  be  incompatible  with  the  free  and  spontaneous  character  of 
this  part  of  the  service.     Justin,  "  Apol."  i.  67. 

I  Justin,  in  the  same  pa-;sage  in  which  he  speaks  of  the  eucharistic  act, 
employs  in  relation  to  the  bread  and  wine  of  the  Lord's  Supper  the  same 
expressions  which  we  find  in  the  words  of  the  institution.  The  bread  recals 
the  broken  body  of  Christ,  and  the  cup  His  blood  shed  for  the  remission  of 
our  sins.     Ibid.  "  Dial.  c.  Tryph."  c.  70. 


PUBLIC   WORSHIP    IN    THE    THIRD    CENTURY.      275 

of  Calvary.  It  is  only  the  spiritual  offering  of  the 
Church  tilled  with  gratitude  for  the  benefits  of  its  Go  1 
and  Saviour,  alike  in  creation  and  redemption;  it  is 
the  sacrifice  of  prayer  in  its  highest  expression,  and 
associated  with  the  elements  of  bread  and  wine,  which 
point  to  the  work  of  the  Word  in  nature,  and  to  His 
humiliation  in  a  crucified  body.  The  Church  of  the 
second  century  knows  no  other  host  than  the  Christian 
soul  presenting  itself  to  God  in  the  name  of  Christ. 

The  service  concluded  with  the  singing  of  a  hymn ; 
then  the  deacons  carried  the  bread  and  wine  to  the 
absent,  a  custom  not  devoid  of  danger  to  the  purity  of 
the  institution,  since  the  sufferers  might  easily  imagine 
that  the  grace  received  was  not  exclusively  connected 
with  the  spiritual  act,  but  was,  in  some  measure,  incor- 
porated in  the  material  elements. 

§  2. — Public  Worship  in  the  Third  Century. 

Christian  worship  remained,  in  the  third  century, 
apparently  unchanged.  The  same  order  of  service  was 
observed  with  stricter  regularity,  but  primitive  liberty 
was  still  retained,  and  there  was  no  approach  as  yet  to 
the  invariable  fixity  of  a  liturgical  service.  It  cannot 
be  denied,  however,  that  a  great  transformation  was 
rife,  under  the  twofold  influence  of  the  hierarchical 
ideas"  which  began  to  prevail,  and  the  doctrinal  devia- 
tion which  we  have  already  indicated,  and  to  which  we 
need  now  only  advert. 

The  Fathers  of  the  third  century  themselves  acknow- 
ledge that  the  Christian  worship  of  their  day  does  not 
altogether  coincide  with  that  of  earlier  times,  especi- 
ally of  the  apostolic  age.     Tertullian,  speaking  of  the 

19  - 


276  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

changes  introduced  into  the  worship  of  the  Church, 
says  that  the  writings  of  the  apostles  will  furnish  no 
justification  of  them.  They  are  the  offspring  of  tradi- 
tion, fostered  by  custom,'^'  and  have  thus  become  the 
practice  of  the  Christian  faith.  We  admit,  unhesitat- 
ingly, the  lawfulness  of  changes  in  the  mode  of  Christian 
worship.  It  is  not  bound  by  the  type  of  the  first  century 
as  by  a  new  Leviticus,  and  it  but  vindicates  its  true 
liberty  when  it  changes  its  modes  according  to  the  re- 
quirements of  various  ages  and  nationalities,  provided 
only  that  there  be  no  derogation  from  the  true  spirit  of 
the  gospel.  But  Tertullian  would  not  have  found  it 
easy  to  justify,  from  this  higher  point  of  view,  many  of 
the  changes  which  were  being  inaugurated  in  the 
Church  of  his  day. 

The  principal  of  these  changes  was  one  quite  in 
harmony  with  the  spirit  of  primitive  Christianity,  the 
fundamental  principle  of  which  was  the  distinction  be- 
tween natural  birth  and  the  new  birth,  between  uncon- 
verted humanity  and  the  true  people  of  God,  received 
into  the  Church  on  the  avowal  of  their  personal  faith.  It 
was  the  reproduction  in  the  public  worship  of  this  sharp 
line  of  distinction,  the  more  sacred  part  of  the  service 
being  reserved  for  approved  Christians  alone.  A  severe 
initiation  was  required  before  the  candidate  might  cross 
the  threshold  of  the  true  sanctuary  of  the  gospel. 
Baptism  alone  gave  the  right  to  take  part  in  the 
Lord's  Supper,  and  in  the  religious  service  which  ac- 
companies it ;  and  baptism  was  only  administered  after 
long  trial,  terminated  by  the  public  renunciation  of  the 

*  "  Harum  et  aliarum  ejusniodi  disciplinarum,  si  legem  expostules  scrip- 
turarum,  nullam  invenies.  Traditio  tibi  praetendetur  auctrix. "  Tertullian, 
"De  corona,"  4. 


PUBLIC   WORSHIP   IN    THE   THIRD    CENTURY.      277 

world  and  the  devil.  Not  only  is  the  presence  of  the 
profane  among  the  believers  at  the  hour  of  worship 
strictly  prohibited,  but  even  the  catechumens  may  not 
sit  side  by  side  with  the  baptised.  It  is  one  of  the 
great  reproaches  addressed  to  the  heretics  that  they  re- 
move prematurely  these  wholesome  barriers,  and  blend 
together  in  the  Church  the  mere  hearers  with  the 
true  priests  of  Christ,  who  have  qualified  themselves 
to  minister  by  taking  part  in  the  eucharistic  prayer 
and  in  the  Lord's  Supper.'-'  Origen  speaks  of  this  se- 
paration as  one  of  the  features  of  Christianity  which 
would  most  strongly  recommend  it  to  the  esteem  and 
admiration  of  thoughtful  men.  He  insists  strongly 
upon  its  absolute  character.  He  contrasts  it  with  the 
facility  v/ith  which  philosophers  admitted  the  first 
comers  into  their  schools.  The  Church  makes  a  care- 
ful scrutiny  of  the  life  and  tenets  of  those  who  seek  a 
place  in  the  ranks  of  the  catechumens,  and  admits  only 
those  who  give  evidence  of  purity  of  life  and  conduct. 
These  hearers  thus  approved,  are  instructed  separately 
till  they  are  judged  worthy  of  baptism,  and  it  is  only 
after  this  rite,  and  after  they  have  pledged  themselves 
to  live  worthily  of  the  Christian  name,  that  they  are 
allowed  to  share  in  the  higher  worship  of  the  Church. 
Under  this  careful  examination  of  all  the  candidates  for 
baptism,  those  who  are  not  worthy  are  shut  out.  No- 
thing can  be  more  false  than  to  accuse  the  Church  of 
being  a  place  of  concourse  for  all  the  vices. t    We  have 

*  "  Imprimis  quis  catechumenus,  quis  fidelis  incertum  est;  pariter  aiidiunt, 
pariter  orant,  ante  sunt  perfecti  catechumeni  quam  edocti."  Tertull'an,  "De 
praescript,"  41. 

t  'Idia  j.itv  7roi{](TavTtq  Tay/ia  to>v  apri  apxofxsvojv,  sr^pov  ce  tu  rujp 
7rapa(TTi]fTdvTU)p  tnvriov  rrjv  Trpoaipsaiv  ovic  dWo  tl  jSovXeaOai  77  ra  Xpirrria- 
roTc  SoKovPTci.  Origen,  "Contra  Cels."  iii.  51.  See  Harnack's  Works, 
quoted,  pp.  30,  31. 


278  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

seen  in  the  picture  already  drawn  of  the  school  of 
catechumens  in  the  third  century,  that  these  disciplinary 
rules  were  carried  out  with  such  severity,  that  even  the 
preaching  was  open  only  to  one  class  of  catechumens — 
those  who  had  passed  a  second  examination  more  search- 
ing than  the  first  by  which  they  had  been  admitted  to  re- 
ceive elementary  instruction.  The  second  part  of  the  wor- 
ship did  not  begin  till  all  the  catechumens  and  penitents 
had  left  the  house  of  prayer,  and  the  deacons  had  pro- 
nounced the  sacred  words  :  *'  Holy  things  to  the  holy." 
It  was  not  that  the  ceremonies  thus  reserved  for  the 
initiate  alone  were  mysteries,  like  those  of  the  pagan 
worship,  the  secrets  of  which  were  not  to  be  divulged 
under  pain  of  terrible  consequences.  On  the  contrary, 
those  who  were  excluded  knew  perfectly  that  all 
that  took  place  was  the  celebration  of  the  eucharistic 
feast,  which  had  for  a  long  time  formed  a  part  of  the 
common  meal  in  Christian  families,  and  had  been  after- 
wards transferred  to  the  Agape.  But  it  was  needful 
to  convey  the  impression  of  the  solemnity  and  sacred- 
ness  of  these  simple  rites,  that  all  might  feel  that  the 
abuse  of  them  might  bring  the  thunders  of  Divine  wrath 
upon  the  offenders,  who,  to  use  the  strong  words  of  St. 
Paul,  would  be  eating  and  drinking  unto  themselves 
condemnation.  When  the  Alexandrine  Fathers  com- 
pared the  initiation  into  the  Christian  Church  with  that 
practised  in  the  great  schools  of  Greek  philosophy,  when 
they  represented  it  as  mainly  the  induction  of  pre- 
pared minds  into  a  deeper  religious  knowledge,  they 
fell  into  a  grave  error,  and  spoke  rather  as  philosophi- 
cal theorists  than  as  Christians ;  for  nothing  could  be 
more  opposed  to  the  true  spirit  of  the  gospel  than  such 


PUBLIC    WORSHIP    IN    THE    THIRD    CENTURY.       279 

an  identification  of  it  with  a  secret  society  into  which 
only  certain  chosen  spirits  could  be  admitted.  Christ- 
ianity rejects  everything  approaching  to  esoterism  as 
a  leaven  of  human  pride ;  and  the  pure  spiritual  milk 
of  its  doctrine  is  as  well  adapted  to  nourish  the  child- 
like and  the  ignorant  as  the  wise  men  and  the  scribes, 
who  indeed  must  become  as  little  children  to  receive 
it  at  all.  The  Christian  mysteries  have  then  nothing 
in  common  either  with  the  mysteries  of  Eleusis  and 
Mithra,  or  with  the  esoterism  of  Neoplatonism  and 
Gnosticism.  They  are  hidden  from  the  common  view 
simply  because  they  can  be  revealed  only  to  the  hum- 
ble and  contrite  heart,  to  the  purified  soul,  and  be- 
cause the  pearls  of  truth  may  not  be  cast  before 
men  of  earthly  and  profane  mind.  The  one  condition 
of  admission  is  true  repentance,  and  in  this  path  the 
poor  publican  often  takes  precedence  of  the  learned 
doctor. 

It  cannot  be  denied,  however,  that  if  the  absolute 
separation  of  the  Eucharist  from  the  other  parts  of 
Christian  worship  had  its  vindication  on  these  high 
grounds,  it  might  also  have  the  effect  of  detracting  some- 
thing from  that  simplicity  which  was  the  true  glory  of 
the  service.  There  was  the  danger  that,  in  seeking  to 
preserve  it  from  all  contact  with  the  profane,  it  might 
become  exalted  so  far  above  the  habitual  level  of  the 
Christian  life,  as  to  appear  an  altogether  exceptional 
thing,  a  solemnity  absolutely  distinct  from  daily  devo- 
tion, a  heavenly  manna  having  no  analogy  with  the 
daily  bread.  It  would  be  but  one  step  further  to  exalt  it 
into  a  sacerdotal  act,  and  this  step  was  hastened  when 
the  original  idea  of  the  Lord's  Supper  became  yet  more 


280  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

modified  under  other  influences,  especially  by  the  growth 
of  hierarchical  sacerdotalism.  These  influences,  as  we 
know  well,  were  in  existence  and  operation  in  the 
Church  of  the  third  century. 

We  have  seen  that  the  Lord's  Supper  rightly  un- 
derstood is  primarily  eucharistic  —  a  sacrifice  not  of 
expiation  but  of  thanksgiving,  a  memorial  of  the  re- 
demption fully  accomplished.  All  that  detracts  in  any 
way  from  St.  Paul's  great  doctrine  of  the  freeness  of  sal- 
vation necessarily  reacts  upon  the  Christian  sacrament, 
which  loses  its  eucharistic  character  in  proportion  as 
the  sacrifice  of  Calvary  ceases  to  be  regarded  as  full  and 
final.  The  Lord's  Supper  is  then  no  longer  the  seal  of 
a  grace  received,  but  the  meritorious  complement  of  an 
inadequate  work ;  it  is  no  longer  simply  the  recognition 
of  a  benefit,  it  assumes  also  an  expiatory  value,  and 
becomes  a  sacrifice  in  the  Jewish  sense.  Now  we  have 
shown,  in  our  exposition  of  Christian  doctrine,  that  at 
this  very  period  the  idea  of  redemption  was  undergoing 
a  radical  and  progressive  change,  even  among  the  best 
and  greatest  of  the  Fathers.  This  transition,  which  is 
only  just  appreciable  in  the  writings  of  Justin  Martyr, 
assumes  grave  proportions  in  those  of  the  Alexandrine 
Fathers.  They  still  regard  the  sacrifice  of  Calvary  as 
the  central  and  capital  fact  of  redemption,  but  not  as 
its  consummation,  because  the  cross  was  in  their  view 
rather  the  triumph  of  holiness  over  evil  than  a  unique 
and  final  act  of  reparation.  This  triumph  of  good  over 
evil  is  carried  on  in  the  good  works  of  the  saints,  and 
especially  in  their  sufferings."'    Origen  does  not  hesitate 

*  See  "  Early  Years  cf  Christianity,"  vol.  iii.  "Heresy  and  Christian 
DdcU-ine,"  pn.  333,  334. 


PUBLIC   WORSHIP    IN    THE    THIRD    CENTURY.      281 

to  declare  that  martyrdom  is  a  continuation  of  the 
redemptive  act,  and  that  the  merit  of  the  glorious  suffer- 
ings thus  endured  is  so  much  added  to  the  treasure  of 
piety,  obedience,  and  holiness,  by  which  our  ransom  is 
purchased.  Jesus  Christ  indeed  enriched  the  Church 
with  incomparable  treasure,  the  pure  gold  of  His 
spotless  life  and  of  His  voluntary  death.  But  He  has 
not  so  filled  the  measure,  that  the  saints  and  confessors 
animated  by  His  spirit,  and  following  in  His  footsteps, 
may  not  add  to  it.  "The  souls  of  those  who  are  slain 
for  Jesus,"  says  Origen,  "plead  not  in  vain  before  the 
heavenly  altar  :  they  become  the  medium  of  pardon  to 
the  men  who  seek  it.  The  powers  of  evil  are  vanquished 
by  the  blood  of  the  martyrs,  by  their  fidelity  and  their 
patience  even  unto  death."  '•' 

Tertullian  adopts  the  same  principles,  and  presses 
their  consequences  still  further.  He  also  regards  the 
death  of  Christ  only  as  the  triumph  of  holiness  over 
evil,  and  he  therefore  traces  a  continuation  of  the  work 
of  redemption  wherever  he  finds  holiness,  especially  in 
the  form  of  asceticism,  to  which,  as  a  Montanist,  he 
attaches  peculiar  value.  Fasting  and  celibacy  he  con- 
siders to  possess  positive  expiatory  virtue  for  sins  com- 
mitted after  baptism. t  They  are  veritable  sacrifices  in 
the  Jewish  sense.  He  says  :  "  I  regard  as  acceptable 
sacrifices  to  God,  contrition  of  soul  and  fastings  endured 
in  sordid  raiment.  The  work  of  righteousness  cannot 
be  accomplished  without  fasting."  Virginity,  and  vol- 
untary chastity  in  those  who  have  entered  the  marriage 
state,  have  a  yet  higher  value  in  his  eyes,  while  martyr- 
dom can  cover  the  most  glaring  sins,  and  is  equivalent 

*  Origen,  "  In  Johan."  vi.  37.  f  Tertullian,  *' De  jejuniis,"  3. 


282  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

to  baptism.*  Cyprian  shows  himself  in  this  respect 
the  too  faithful  disciple  of  his  illustrious  predecessor. 
He  speaks  freely  of  man's  satisfying  the  justice  of  God 
by  penitence,  and  atoning  for  his  sins  by  his  tears 
and  almsgivings.  Not  only  do  the  sufferings  of  the 
martyrs  avail  for  the  expiation  of  their  sins,  but  their 
intercession  is  of  peculiar  efficacy  for  the  sins  of 
others. t 

These  grave  alterations  of  the  doctrine  of  redemption 
did  not  receive  their  direct  application  to  the  Lord's 
Supper  till  the  time  of  Cyprian.  It  was  impossible, 
however,  that  their  influence  should  not  soon  make 
itself  felt  in  this  direction.  It  was  not  only  the  concep- 
tion of  the  work  of  Christ  which  was  modified  in  the 
theology  of  Tertullian,  but  also  the  idea  of  the  Christian 
sacrifice,  which  became  in  his  view  rather  an  expiation 
than  a  Eucharist.  It  is  designed,  according  to  Tertullian, 
rather  to  appease  God  than  to  praise  Him.  It  is  not 
so  much  the  free-will  offering  of  a  forgiven  soul  as  a 
partial  atonement.  This  modification  of  the  idea  of  the 
Lord's  Supper  naturally  led  on  to  another  :  if  the  sacri- 
fice was  of  an  expiatory  character,  it  was  natural  to  see 
in  it  a  renewal  of  the  sacrifice  of  Calvary.  For  this 
new  sacrifice  the  priesthood  is  ready,  for  it  has  just  been 
reconstituted  under  the  influence  of  episcopal  assump- 
tion. We  are  on  the  eve  of  the  inauguration  of  the 
Catholic  Mass,  though  as  yet  Christian  spirituality  may 
be  strong  enough  to  counterbalance  these  novel  in- 
fluences.    The  doctrine  of  the  real  bodily  presence  of 

*  **  Nam  et  sacrificia  deo  grata  jejunia  et  seras  et  aiidas  escas. — Virginitas 
quoque  et  viduitas  Deo  adolentur."     "  De  resurrect.  carnis,"8. 

t  "  Opevationibus  justis  Deo  satisfieri."  Cyprian,  "  De  opera  et  elee 
mosyna,"  c.  5. 


PUBLIC   WORSHIP    IN    THE  THIRD    CENTURY.      283 

Christ  in  the  Eucharist  will  not  be  triumphantly  estab- 
lished till  some  centuries  later.  It  is  impossible,  how- 
ever, not  to  perceive  the  gravity  of  the  innovation 
introduced  under  the  episcopate  of  Cyprian.  In  his 
writings  we  find  for  the  first  time  the  idea  that  the 
Church  offers  to  God  in  the  Lord's  Supper  the  blood  of 
Christ,*  and  that  the  cup  is  the  repetition  of  the  obla- 
tion of  the  cross.  How  widely  different  is  this  from 
the  spiritual  and  eucharistic  sacrifice. 

The  transformation  of  the  Lord's  Supper  into  an 
expiatory  sacrifice  was  also  facilitated  by  the  custom, 
in  itself  admirable,  of  laying  at  the  feet  of  the  bishop 
the  gifts  designed  for  the  succour  of  the  poor  and  for 
the  various  charitable  offices  of  the  Church.  Cyprian 
attaches  a  positive  value  to  Christian  almsgiving  for 
the  remission  of  sins  committed  after  baptism,  as 
appears  in  his  treatise  on  '*  Good  Works  and  Alms- 
giving." He  says  :  "  What  would  become  of  us  in  the 
frailty  and  feebleness  of  our  human  nature,  if  the  Divine 
mercy  had  not  given  us  the  means  of  purifying  ourselves 
by  our  alms  from  the  defilements  we  contract  ?t  The 
blood  of  the  cross  avails  to  wash  away  our  sins  before 
our  return  to  God :  let  us  bless  His  clemency  who, 
knowing  that  we  cannot  keep  ourselves  from  evil,  has 
thus  provided  us  with  a  healing  remedy.  Our  sins  are 
expiated  by  the  merits  of  the  mercy  which  places  within 
our  reach  the  means  of  appeasing  God."|  Citing  the 
example  of  Tabitha,  the  mother  of  the  poor  at  Joppa, 

*  *'  Sanguinem  Christi  offeri."     Cyprian,  "Ep."  61,  9. 
t  "  De  opera  et  eleemosyna,"  c.  I. 

X  "  Remedia  propitiando  Deo  ipsius  Dei  verbis  data  sunt,  operationibus 
justis  Deo  satisfieri,  misericordiae  meritis  peccata  purgari."     Ibid.  5. 


284  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

whom  Peter  raised  from  the  dead,  Cyprian  exclaims, 
"  Behold  what  is  wrought  by  the  merits  of  charity."* 
Almsgiving  is  thus  regarded  by  the  bishop  of  Carthage 
as  a  true  sacrifice  of  expiation  and  purification,  and  the 
eucharistic  table,  on  which  the  free  gifts  of  Christian 
charity  were  solemnly  deposited,  becomes  in  his  view 
the  altar  of  expiatory  offerings.  We  see  by  what 
inferences  the  idea  of  sacrifice  began  to  be  applied 
to  the  bread  and  wine  of  the  Lord's  Supper,  as  the  first 
offerings  of  the  Christians,  long  before  the  doctrine 
of  the  transformation  of  the  elements  was  evolved 
from  the  vague  mysticism  which  at  first  enshrouded  it. 

It  was  customary  to  mention  the  names  of  the  givers 
at  the  time  of  the  celebration  of  the  communion. f 
They  were  in  this  way  led  to  think  that  they  had 
acquired  some  special  merit  by  virtue  of  which  they 
had  the  foremost  share  in  the  expiatory  sacrifice  offered 
to  God  by  His  Church. 

Other  names  were  also  mentioned  at  this  sacred 
hour — the  names  of  the  brethren  and  sisters  whose 
deaths  were  deplored.  The  Christians  delighted  to 
associate  at  the  Lord's  table,  the  Church  on  earth 
with  the  Church  in  heaven.  Living  by  anticipation 
in  the  unseen  world,  it  seemed  to  them  natural  to 
gather  around  the  table  of  their  crucified  Lord  the 
whole  family  of  believers,  and  to  realise  that  the  bonds 
which  united  them  were  not  broken  by  death.  This 
practice  also  assumed  a  different  character  when  the 
Lord's  Supper  came  to  be  regarded  as  an  expiatory 

*  "Tantum  potuerunt  misericordise  merita."  "De  opera  et  eleemoys- 
na,»6. 

t  "  Eccles.  Alex,  monumenta. "  "Liturgia  divi  Marci."  Bunsen,  "Ante- 
nicoena."  iii.  112 


PUBLIC    WORSHIP    U:    THE    THIRD    CENTURY.      285 

sacrifice :  a  superstitious  notion  grew  up  in  connection 
with  the  mention  of  the  names  of  the  dead.  It  was 
imagined  that  the  eucharistic  sacrifice  was  in  part 
offered  for  them,  and  had  some  efiicacy  in  releasing 
them  from  the  consequences  of  sin  :  this  idea  was 
fostered  by  the  practice  of  bringing  offerings  for  them 
and  in  their  stead.''' 

This  belief  only  arose  in  the  third  century,  but  it 
rapidly  developed.  The  Church  felt  itself  encompassed 
in  this  solemn  moment  of  its  worship  by  a  cloud  of 
witnesses  who  had  already  received  the  crown.  Origen 
has  described  in  eloquent  words,  which  we  have  already 
quoted,  this  mystical  and  real  communion  between 
those  who  are  engaged  in  the  conflict  and  the  trium- 
phant martyrs.!  Doubtless  such  a  thought  was  in 
itself  inspiring,  and  likely  to  produce  an  exalted  frame 
of  mind ;  but  it  became  full  of  peril  when  an  expiatory 
value  was  attached  to  the  merits  of  the  martyrs.  The 
commemoration  of  their  names  soon  passed  into  adora- 
tion, ascribing  to  the  creature  that  which  belongs  to 
God  alone.  Then  arose  by  slow  degrees  the  idea  of  the 
invocation  of  the  saints,  though  this  was  not  recognised 
till  long  after. 

The  Eucharist,  thus  overladen  with  superstitious 
ideas,  ceased  to  be  more  than  a  very  imperfect  remem- 
brance of  the  Lord's  Supper;  it  became  a  veritable 
mystery,  not  a  spiritual  service  in  which  faith  was 
fortified  by  the  figurative  act.  The  elements  were  sup- 
posed to  have  acquired  an  intrinsic  virtue,  and  to  be 
the  medium  of  sacramental  grace  even  after  the  com- 

*  "  Oblationes  pro  defunctis,  pro  natalitiis,  annua  die  facimus."  Ter- 
tullian,  "De  corona,"  3.  t  Oiigen,  **  De  orat."  II. 


2S6  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

memorative  act  was  accomplished.  Thus  the  custom 
of  sending  the  eucharistic  bread  to  the  absent  was 
generalised,  and  this  distribution  took  the  place  of  the 
earlier  practice  of  observing  the  Lord's  Supper  with  the 
sick  in  their  houses. 

We  must  not,  however,  exaggerate  the  significance 
of  these  changes.  Many  germs  of  error,  which  did  not 
show  themselves  till  long  after,  are  appreciable  to  us, 
because  we  know  to  what  they  grew  in  later  times. 
The  worship  of  the  age  of  which  we  are  speaking  was 
unquestionably  tending  in  a  dangerous  direction,  but  it 
was  as  yet  far  from  the  materialistic  formalism  into 
which  it  subsequently  fell.  It  still  preserved  its  simple 
and  touching  beauty ;  the  pure  and  fervent  spirit  of  the 
creative  age  of  the  Church  had  not  yet  grown  cold ;  it 
breathes  in  her  prayers  and  hymns,  and  in  that  con- 
sciousness of  the  universal  priesthood  which  will  soon 
be  lost,  but  which  as  yet  lives  in  the  hearts  of  the 
Christians,  and  binds  together  in  sacred  oneness  the 
Lord's  day  and  the  other  days  of  the  week,  public 
worship  and  private  devotion,  the  religious  and  the 
moral  life. 


iiS; 


CHAPTER  V. 

ARCHEOLOGY    OF   THE   VARIOUS   ACTS   OF    PUBLIC 
WORSHIP. 

§  I. — Public  Prayer. 

After  this  general  review  of  the  worship  of  the 
Church,  it  will  be  well  for  us  to  consider  separately 
each  of  its  parts,  that  we  may  trace  the  successive 
transformations  which  in  time  passed  upon  all. 

Prayer,  in   public   worship,   did  not  differ  materially 
from  private  prayer.     The  same  forms  were  used.     The 
assembly  knelt  on  ordinary  days,  after  the  example  of 
James  the  brother  of  our  Lord,  whose  knees  became 
completely  callous  through  prolonged  confession  of  the 
sins    of    his    people.-     On    Sunday,  and  all    the    days 
between   Easter  and  Pentecost,  an   erect  position  was 
maintained  during   prayer,  in  honour  of  the  resurrec- 
tion.!    Sometimes  on  special  occasions  of  mourning  or 
humiliation,  the  Christians  prostrated  themselves  with 
then*  faces  to  the  earth.  I     A  sitting   posture   was  for- 
bidden.    There  was  even  to  be  some  interval  before  re- 
suming the  ordinary  attitude,  "  lest,"  says  Tertullian, 
"  the  angel  of  prayer  who  still  stands  beside  us  should 

*  Eusebius,  "  H.  E."  ii.  23.  t  Tertullian,  "De  corona,"  3. 

I  Socrates,  "H.E."  i.  37. 


288  THE   EARLY   CHRISTIAN   CHURCH. 

regard    our   too    evident   weariness    as    an    insult    to 

God."* 

Men    prayed   with    uncovered  heads,   thus  breaking 
through  the   customs  of   Judaism,   which  would  have 
condemned   such  freedom   as  a  want  of  respect  to  the 
holy  and  dreadful  God,  whose  invisible  presence  filled 
the  sanctuary  like  a  sacred  cloud.     The  ancient  East 
trembled  before  the  Godhead  ;  hence  its  priests  covered 
their  heads   at  the  hour  of  sacrifice.     The  Greek,  on 
the  contrary,  who  came  into  closer  relationship  with 
his  gods,  whom  he  regarded  as  heroic  men,  did  not  feel 
bound  to  observe  these  marks  of  reverential  fear.     The 
Christian,  in  uncovering  his  head,  expressed  his  filial 
confidence  in  the  God  to  whom  he  had  found  free  access. 
Women,   however,   had    their   heads    covered,   both    to 
mark  their  relation  of  dependence  towards  their  hus- 
bands, and  also  not  to  attract  attention.t    Virgins  were 
to  be  veiled. t     The  Christians   raised  their   hands  in 
prayer,  to  signify  that  their  souls  aspired  Godward,  and 
they  spread  them  out,  in  memory  of  the  hands  of  the 
Crucified  One.§     Lastly,  they  bowed  the  head  to,  receive 
the  benediction  of  the  bishop.  || 

If  from  the  outward  form  of  public  prayer  we  pass 
to  its  internal  characteristics,  we  shall  be  struck  first 
by  its  great  simplicity.  The  numerous  fragments  of 
liturgies  which  have  come  down  to  us  bear  no  trace  of 
oratorical  effort  or  rhetoric.  ''  Stately  speech,"  says 
Arnobius,  "  and  the  learned  arrangement  of  words,  be- 
long to  political  assemblies,  tribunals,  and  the  forum  : 

*  Tertullian,  "  De  orat."  12.  t  i  Cor.  xi.  4.  ^^ 

\  Tertullian,  "  De  virgin,  veland."  2.  §  Ibid.  "  De  orat.  '  II. 

1]  KXivart  Kal  d>\oyi~L>j06.      "Const.  Apost."  viii.  6. 


PUBLIC    PKAYHR.  289 

chey  must  be  reseived  for  those  who  delight  in  merely 
verbal  display.  When  we  have  to  do  with  grave  reali- 
ties there  is  no  scope  for  ostentation  ;  we  have  to  think 
of  the  subject-matter  before  us,  not  how  we  may 
express  it  in  some  agreeable  manner.  It  shows  an 
enervated  mind  to  seek  pleasure  in  serious  things,  and 
to  think  of  the  harmony  of  sounds  in  presence  of  the 
sick  and  the  wounded  who  need  healing.* 

These  rigid  rules  apply  specially  to  prayer.  Thus  it 
avoids  all  that  resembles  art,  while  yet  preserving  its 
beauty.  The  dignity  of  holy  Scripture,  the  grandeur 
of  prophetic  images,  and  the  sweetness  of  the  gospel 
honey  all  blend  in  it.  The  Divine  word  bears  it  heaven- 
ward as  the  eagle  bears  the  eaglet  on  its  mighty  wings, 
to  use  one  of  the  sublime  and  tender  metaphors  of  the 
Bible.  The  prayer  of  the  early  Church  is,  in  fact,  fed 
and  nourished  on  Scripture,  the  sacred  texts  being 
constantly  reproduced  either  by  literal  quotation  or  by 
allusion.  The  simplicity  of  the  prayers  forbids  long 
periods,  but  they  are  equally  free  from  dulness  and 
abruptness.  Frequent  repetitions  occur,  the  outpour- 
ings of  the  deepest  and  tenderest  emotions  of  the  soul. 
As  in  a  musical  composition  the  principal  theme  recurs 
again  and  again,  so  in  prayer  we  catch  at  frequent 
intervals  the  one  dominant  note,  like  the  recurring  lap 
of  the  wave  on  the  shore,  and  the  repetition  prolongs 
the  impression,  which  might  else  die  away  too  soon. 

The  second  characteristic  of  public  prayer  is  that  it 
is  intelligible  to  all,  and  couched  therefore  in  the  cur- 
rent language  of  the  people.  The  Pentecostal  tongues 
of  fire  which  descended  on  the  first  Christians  did  not 

*  Arnobius,  "  Disput.  ad  vers.  Gent,  "i,  58,  59. 
20 


290  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

prevent  each  celebrating  the  praises  of  God  in  his  own 
tongue/'^  No  sacred  language  was  given  to  the  Church, 
nor  was  any  pecuHar  sanctity  attached  to  Hebrew  or  to 
the  Aramaic  tongue  used  by  our  Lord  Himself.  Three 
of  the  Gospels  were  written  in  that  Greek  idiom  which 
had  been  the  instrument  of  conveying  the  highest  culture 
to  the  Gentile  world.  St.  Paul  wrote  and  preached  in 
the  same  language.  Latin,  that  iron  tongue  which  had 
so  often  uttered  the  decrees  of  persecution,  and  which 
seemed,  in  its  rigidity  and  strength,  forged  to  bind 
mankind  in  fetters,  was  alike  employed  in  the  prayers 
which  the  Church  addressed  to  God  on  behalf  of  the 
Caesars,  its  persecutors.  Origen  says:  "The  Hellen- 
ists use  Greek  in  their  prayers,  the  Romans  Latin  : 
thus  each  prays  to  God  in  his  own  tongue,  and  praises 
Him  as  he  is  able  ;  and  the  Lord  of  all  kindreds  and 
tongues  hears  these  various  utterances  as  if  they  were 
but  the  voice  of  one  soul  going  up  to  Him."t 

Just  as  the  first  effort  of  Christian  missions,  even 
among  the  most  barbarous  nations,  is  to  give  them  a 
translation  of  the  sacred  books,  so  the  first  result  of 
the  conquests  of  the  Church  was  to  cause  the  voice 
of  prayer  to  be  heard  in  new  tongues,  so  that  Scythian 
and  Goth,  Asiatic  and  rude  African,  might  echo  the 
w^ords  that  fell  from  the  lips  of  pious  Roman  or  Greek. 
The  idea  of  imposing  on  Christendom  a  language  not 
understood,  would  have  seemed  strange  indeed  to  the 
disciples  of  the  apostle  who  did  not  even  sanction  the 

*  Acts  ii.  8. 

t  'Ev  ralg  fvxai^  "■«  i.di'"K\\i}viQ  fWrjriico'ig.  ol  St  pMjicnoi  p(jOfia'(Ko7g  Kaf 
oi'-wc  tKaarog  Kara  t)]v  iavrov  SiciXiktov  (v-)^e~ai  Tip  Hf<p  kcu  Vj-ivtl  avror 
wy  Cvvarai,  koi  u  Trc'iffijg  oiaXtKrov  Kvqiog  roJv  arro  TraaijQ  CiaX'tKrov  si'xofjai'wv 
aKovii.     Origen    "  Contra  Cels,"  viii.  37. 


PUBLIC    WORSHIP.  291 

use  of  ecstatic  speech  if  it  was  incomprehensible  to  the 
great  body  of  the  faithful.  The  soul  of  man,  enveloped 
in  the  heavy  atmosphere  of  earthly  things,  finds  it  diffi- 
cult enough  to  rise  to  things  Divine,  without  such 
obstacles  being  thrown  in  its  way.  The  incomprehen- 
sible is  not  a  well-chosen  medium  to  assist  the  soul  to 
reach  the  invisible. 

A  third  characteristic  of  public  prayer  until  the  close 
of  this  period  is  its  liberty.  Its  place  in  the  service  is 
determined,  but  it  is  not  fettered  by  any  set  form ;  its 
aspirations  may  rise  spontaneously,  and  the  words  in 
which  they  shall  be  expressed  are  not  predetermined  by 
any  fixed  formula.  The  declarations  of  Justin  on  this 
subject  met  with  no  contradiction  in  the  following 
century.  Tertullian  says  :  "  We  pray  from  our  hearts."* 
The  fragments  of  liturgies  which  we  possess  are  not 
prayers,  the  use  of  which  was  obligatory,  but  simply 
the  living  echo  of  the  devotions  of  the  early'Church.f 

*  "  De  pectore  oramus."     Tertullian,  "  Apol."  30. 

t  An  extensive  literature  has  arisen  on  the  subject  of  the  ancient  liturgies 
of  the  Church,  apart  from  the  works  which  have  been  written  on  the 
liturgical  controversy  of  our  own  times,  especially  in  relation  to  the  liturgy 
of  Rome.  These,  dealing  altogether  with  a  special  subject,  have  nothing  to 
do  with  the  history  of  the  first  three  centuries.  We  have,  in  the  first  place, 
the  great  work  of  Renaudot,  "  Liturgiarum  orientaliuni  collectio,"  Paris, 
1725,  a  work  very  valuable  because  of  its  large  collection  of  documents. 
We  have  next  the  "Codex  liturgicus"  of  Asseman,  Rome,  1743.  Renaudot, 
taking  as  his  basis  a  passage  of  Basil,  to  which  he  gives  a  forced  meaning, 
asserts  that  no  liturgy  was  written  before  the  fourth  century,  and  that  those 
which  he  publishes  are  all  founded  on  the  oral  tradition  which  he  traces 
back  to  the  apostles  themselves.  The  passage  of  Basil  on  which  this  asser- 
tion is  made  to  rest  runs  thus:  Ta  rqg  irriKXijanoc  pfifiara  iiri  tij  dvacei^fi 
Tov  dprov  TijQ  ivxapiOTiag  Kui  tov  Trorijpiov  rig  tCji'  ayuov  tyypcKptog  y'lf-uv 
KaraXtXaiTTiV  ;  ov  yip  St)  rovToig  apKovniQa  mi/  6  ciTroaroXog  f/  to  tvayyfXiov 
t7rei.ivt](T9i]  aWd  Kai  'iripa  Ik  Tijg  dypd(pov  luaoKaXiag  7rapaXa€oi.uv.  Basil, 
"  De  spiritu,"  c.  27.  If  this  text  is  taken  in  its  natural  sense,  it  will  be  seen 
that  it  simply  declares  that  the  liturgies  of  Basil's  day  were  not  written 
directly  by  the  apostles,  and  that  they  are  derived  from  tradition  ;  but  this 
does  not  shut  out  the  possibility  that  there  was  a  more  or  less  faithful  ren- 

20  ""' 


293  THE   EARLY   CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

It  was  not  till  the  Council  of  Toledo,  in  633,  that 
uniformity  in  worship  was  enforced  by  decree,  and  spon- 
taneous prayer  forbidden.  We  find  in  the  "  Coptic  Con- 
stitution" these  remarkable  and  decisive  words  assuring 
the  liberty  of  public  prayer  :  "  Let  the  bishop  celebrate 
the  Eucharist  according  to  the  forms  prescribed  above. 
It  is  not,  however,  absolutely  necessary  that  he  should 
use  the  same  words  we  have  employed,  or  should  feel 

(lering  of  this  tradition  in  the  age  following  that  of  the  apostles.  It  is 
certain  that  the  "Apostolical  Constitutions"  contain,  before  the  Council  of 
Xicaea,  large  portions  of  liturgical  services.  We  may  show  presently  that 
Origen  was  acquainted,  at  least  in  part,  with  what  is  called  the  liturgy  of  St. 
Mark.  On  the  other  hand,  the  liturgies  publi>hed  by  Renaudot  contain 
numerous  interpolations  dating  from  the  fourth  or  fifth  centuries.  It  is  not 
possible  therefore  to  ascribe  them  to  a  tradition  of  the  apostolic  age.  That 
which  we  really  gather  from  the  passage  of  Basil,  and  from  Renaudot's  in- 
terpretation; is  that  the  liturgies  before  Nicita  were  still  indeterminate,  and 
had  not  assumed  a  strictly  defined  form,  because  worship  still  preserved,  as 
we  have  shown,  a  considerable  amount  of  liberty,  though  its  general  outline 
was  fixed. 

If  we  set  aside  the  liturgies  of  Basil  and  Chrysostom,  as  they  are  called, 
and  which  bear  the  impress  of  their  age  and  style  of  rhetoric,  we  shall  see 
that  the  liturgies  reproduced  by  Renaudot  and  Asseman,  those  at  least  of 
the  Churches  of  the  East,  come  under  three  principal  types,  the  basis  of 
which  it  is  easy  to  trace. 

1.  The  liturgy  of  James,  sometimes,  with  a  few  variations,  called  by  the 
names  of  Peter,  Matthew,  and  other  apostles  and  evangelists.  This  was 
chiefly  in  use  in  Palestine,  Syria,  and  the  Asiatic  East.  The  attempt  has 
been  vainly  made  to  trace  this  to  the  age  of  the  apostles,  by  the  ingenious 
collation  of  some  parts  of  it  with  passages  from  the  apostles  or  the  apostolic 
Fathers.  (See  the  curious  chapter  on  this  question  in  Neale's  book,  "Essays 
on  Liturgiology  and  Church  History, "  London,  1867.)  It  is  far  more 
reasonable  to  admit  that  the  apostolic  text  has  been  reproduced  by  the 
authors  of  the  liturgy  than  to  suppose  the  contrary,  especially  when  we  take 
into  account  the  numberless  interpolations  in  favour  of  the  hierarchy  which 
abound  in  it,  and  which  are  of  a  much  later  date. 

2.  The  so-called  liturgy  of  Clement,  contained  in  the  eighth  book  of  the 
"Apostolical  Constitutions,"  This,  as  we  have  shown  in  relation  to  the 
"Apostolical  Constitutions"  generally,  has  undoubtedly  an  Ante-Nicene 
basis,  overlaid  by  numerous  passages  of  later  date. 

3.  The  liturgy  of  Mark,  in  use  in  the  Egyptian  Church  from  the  third 
century,  under  the  Ethiopian  form  as  reproduced  by  Ludolph.  We  shall 
give  the  precise  date  when  we  quote  from  it. 

See  also,  on  the  liturgies  of  the  ancient  Church,  Daniel,  "  Codex  litur- 
gicus  ecclesice  universoe,"  Leipzig,  1847-53,  vol.  iv.  fasciculus  I,  2;  Bunsen, 
"  Analecta  anteniccena,"  vol.  iii.  ;   "  Hippolytus,"  vol.  ii.  365-399. 


PUBLIC    PRAYER.  293 

himself  rigidly  bound  by  them  ;  rather  let  each  one  pray 
as  he  is  able.  If  any  is  capable  of  himself  offering  a 
fitting  prayer,  it  is  well.  But  if  he  who  prays  does  so 
in  accordance  with  the  forms  indicated,  let  no  one 
hinder  him,  provided  that  his  prayer  be  in  all  points  ac- 
cording to  sound  doctrine."  *  Such  were  the  principles 
which  prevailed  in  the  third  century.  The  use  of  a 
liturgy,  invariable  and  obligatory,  would  have  appeared 
a  profanation  of  prayer,  an  infringement  of  the  most 
sacred  of  all  liberties,  the  freedom  of  the  soul  in  its 
intercourse  with  God.  While  it  might  be  deemed 
expedient  to  enumerate,  as  the  Apostle  Paul  does,  the 
great  subjects  which  must  not  be  forgotten  in  prayer, 
and  to  distinguish  in  public  worship  the  time  at  which 
general  prayer  should  be  offered  for  all  men  from  that 
specially  devoted  to  eucharistic  prayer ;  while  some  of 
the  prayers  for  use  in  public  worship  were  formulated 
for  the  assistance  of  the  president,  who  might  not  be 
gifted  for  this  service;  the  principle  of  liberty  in  prayer 
was  nevertheless  firmly  maintained  as  the  inalienable 
right  of  every  Christian  body.  The  grand  liturgical 
productions  of  following  ages  seem  sometimes,  in  their 
magnificence,  to  resemble  the  splendid  tombs  erected  by 
the  synagogue  to  the  prophets  whom  it  had  first  slain. 
It  was  when  the  spirit  of  true  evangelical  prophecy,  the 
fire  of  free  and  fervent  prayer,  had  been  stifled  under  an 
accumulation  of  forms,  that  the  Church  erected  these 
sumptuous  monuments  of  prescribed  devotion,  which  are 
too  often  but  the  cenotaphs  of  departed  piety. 

So  great  was  the  respect  for  the  freedom  of  prayer  in 

*  Ou  TTcivTMQ  avnyKciiov  tan  to.  avra.  pqi^iara  aurov  \tyeiv  arep   TrpoBprj- 
Ka/iEi',   (tAXd    TTCiQ    Kara   rijv  dvvaf.iiv    avrov    irpoatv^tadit},   fiovov    vyuivwQ 

TrpuatvxkaQo}  Iv  opdoEo^iq..      "  Const.  Ecclcs.  E^ypt."  ii.  34. 


294  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

the  early  Church,  that  even  the  use  of  the  Lord's  Prayer, 
as  a  formulary,  was  not  made  obligatory  until  after  the 
second  century.  It  is  vain  to  try  and  deduce  any  clear 
evidence  to  the  contrary  from  the  words  of  Justin 
Martyr.*  The  Lord's  Prayer  appears  from  the  third 
century  in  the  baptismal  service,  it  being  the  custom 
for  the  neophyte  to  repeat  it  on  emerging  from  the 
waters  of  baptism,  in  token  of  his  new  sacerdotal 
dignity.  It  was  also  frequently  used  in  the  act  of 
consecration  at  the  Lord's  Supper.  Tertullian  and 
Cyprian  regard  it  as  the  epitome  of  Christian  doctrine 
and  the  model  of  prayer.t 

It  was  not,  however,  till  the  fourth  century  that  it 
became  an  integral  part  of  worship,  and  that  any  capital 
importance  was  attached  to  its  use.  St.  Augustine 
speaks  of  it  as  the  indispensable  prayer.J  The  dox- 
ology,  with  which  it  closes,  dates  from  the  same  period, 
for  it  does  not  appear  in  any  writing  of  the  Fathers  of 
the  third  century. 

Prayer  is  often  addressed  to  Jesus  Christ.  "We  pray 
to  Christ,"  say  the  Christians  of  Smyrna,  "  because 
He  is  the  Son  of  God,  and  we  love  the  martyrs  as  they 
deserve  our  love,  because  they  are  His  disciples  and 
imitators. "§  Origen  strongl}^  repudiates  the  reproach 
which  Celsus  casts  upon  the  Christians,  that  they  put 

*  See  Augustine,  "Archeology,"  ii,  p.  62. 

t  "  Oiandi  disciplina."  Tertullian,  "  De  oratione,"  I.  **  Qualia  crationis 
dominicre  sacramenta,  quam  mult  a,  quam  magna,  breviter  in  sermone 
coilecta  ut  nihil  omnino  praetermissum  est,  quod  non  in  prccibus  atque 
brationibus  nostris  coelestis  doctrinse  compendio  comprehendatur  I "  Cyprian, 
*'  De  orat.  dom."  9. 

I  "Omnibus  necessaria  est  oratio  dominica."  Augustine,  "  Ep.  89, 
ad  Hilar." 

$^  TovTOP  v'wv  uvra  rov  Oeov  irpoa'-vvovniv.  "  Ep.  eccles,  Smyrn.apud." 
Eusebius,  "H.  E."iv.  15. 


PUBLIC    PRAYER.  295 

a  man  on  the  same  level  with  God.  He  vindicates  for 
them  the  right  to  address  prayer  to  Him  who  is  one 
with  the  Father,  who  was  before  Abraham,  and  who 
reflected  so  perfectly  the  image  of  God,  that  to  see  Him 
was  to  see  God.  He  goes  on  to  say  :  "  Celsus  is  in 
error  when  he  asserts  that  because  we  honour  God  and 
His  Son,  it  follows  that  we  honour  not  God  alone,  but 
His  servant  also.  We  worship  one  only  God  and  one 
only  Son  of  God,  His  Word  and  image,  and  we  pay  to  Him 
all  the  honour  in  our  power,  by  presenting  our  prayers 
to  the  God  of  the  universe  through  His  only  Son.'"'' 
Origen  adds  that  we  ought  to  offer  our  prayers,  suppli- 
cations, and  thanksgivings  to  God  most  high,  by  one 
great  High-Priest,  who  is  the  living  Word  of  God,  raised 
above  angels  and  archangels.  "To  this  Word,"  he 
says,  "  we  present  our  prayers."  We  see  that  prayer 
to  Jesus  Christ  is  clearly  recognised,  with  this  shade  of 
difterence,  that  Origen  certainly  prefers  prayer  to  God 
by  the  Son.  The  Holy  Spirit  is  invoked  in  the  same 
way  as  the  Father  and  Son.  We  have  ah-eady  re- 
marked that  the  deep  and  universal  faith  in  the  Divinity 
of  Christ  is  shown  more  clearly  by  these  spontaneous 
manifestations  of  the  piety  of  Christian  antiquity,  than 
by  any  mere  theological  declarations.  Until  the  fourth 
century  no  name  of  any  creature,  angel  or  saint,  ever 
entered  into  the  prayers  of  the  Church.  The  mother  of 
Christ  was  never  invoked ;  she  was  simply  regarded  as 
the  lowliest  and  most  blessei  daughter  of  a  sinful  and 
redeemed  race,  and  we  have  to  descend  into  the  depths 
of  apocryphal  literature  to  find  the  first  commencements 

*  Origen,  "  Contra  Cels.'' viii.  12,  13. 


296  THE    EARLY   CHRISTIAN    CHURCH, 

of  the  extravagant  exaltation  of  the  Virgin  of  Beth- 
lehem.* 

The  part  taken  directly  by  the  congregation  in  public 
worship  was  not  large,  though  in  principle  the  right 
of  laymen  to  teach  was  recognised.  We  have  seen 
that  the  whole  assembly  joined  first  in  prayer.  This 
was  a  time  of  solemn  silence,  broken  by  the  voice  of 
the  president  calling  for  prayer  for  the  various  classes 
and  conditions  of  men,  the  congregation  responding  by 
a  sort  of  refrain.  This  it  did  repeatedly  in  the  course 
of  the  service,  appropriating  by  the  united  Amen  the 
prayer  offered  in  its  name.  This  formula  was  of  Jewish 
origin.  Moses  had  ordained  that  the  people  should 
ratify  in  this  way  the  maledictions  of  the  law  against 
idolatry. t  The  Talmud  attached  peculiar  importance 
to  these  maledictions,  and  threatened  fearful  chastise- 
ments on  those  who  should  utter  them  lightly.  The 
Amen  was  naturally  adopted  in  the  Church.  St,  Paul 
mentions  it,  and  it  occurs  constantly  as  the  natural  con- 
clusion of  any  solemn  prayer. |  This  response  associates 
the  Christian  people  with  their  representatives,  and  thus 
gives  them  more  than  a  merely  passive  share  in  the 
worship.  St.  Augustine  says,  "  The  Amen  expresses 
our  adherence,  our  consent  and  ratification.  The 
blood  of  Christ,"  he  adds,  "  cries  with  a  great  voice 
from  the  earth,  when  all  the  people  who  accept  it 
answer  Amen  !  "  § 

The  Hallelujah  is  almost  as  ancient.     It  comes  down 

*  Augustine,  "Archaeology,"  ii.  27.  t  Dent,  xxvii.  14. 

I  Hag  6  fiapijjv  \avg  eTrev^jj/ttt  Xsyw?/.  'Afii'iv.  Justin,  "  Apol."  i.  67. 
"Ex  ore  quo  Amen  in  sanctum  protuleris."     Tertullian,  "De  spect."  25. 

§  "  Amen  proinde  nostra  subscriptio  est,  consensio  nostra  est. "  Augustine, 
*'  bermo  ad  popul.  contra  Pelag." 


PUBLIC    PRAYER.  297 

to  US  as  the  most  solemn  expression  of  adoration  in  the 
ancient  hymns  of  Israel,  as  the  104th,  113th,  and 
iiSth  Psalms,  which  are  called  the  Psalms  of  the  great 
Hallelujah.  The  heavenly  hosts  in  the  Apocalypse 
use  it  in  their  triumphant  song.  '•'  The  Church  is  at 
first  careful  in  the  adoption  of  it,  fearing  that  this 
angelic  word,  as  Anselm  of  Canterbury  calls  it,  might 
degenerate  into  m.ere  empty  sound.  The  Christian 
East  only  sang  Hallelujah  at  Easter  and  at  Pentecost. 
The  same  rule  was  observed  in  the  West,  and  even 
more  rigorously  at  Rome,  where  the  Hallelujah  was 
sung  only  on  Easter  Day.  Jerome,  on  the  contrary, 
heard  it  everywhere  in  Palestine — children  lisping  it  in 
the  cradle,  labourers  shouting  it  behind  the  plough. t 
According  to  Isidore  of  Seville,  the  Church  would  not 
translate  either  the  Amen  or  the  Hallelujah,  because 
they  were  words  so  sacred  and  so  grand,  that  John, 
when  he  listened  to  them  for  the  first  time  in  heaven, 
thought  he  heard  the  voice  of  great  waters  and  of 
mighty  thunderings.  St.  Augustine,  however,  thus 
translates  the  Hallelujah,  "Praise  ye  the  Lord  ! "  t 
The  Church  received  also  from  Judaism  the  word 
Hosanna.  This  occurs  for  the  first  time  in  Psalm 
cxviii.,  and  its  meaning,  according  to  the  Septuagint, 
is  "  Save  i^s."§  The  Hosanna  accompanied  the  trium- 
phal entry  of  Jesus  into  Jerusalem  on  the  day  of 
Palms.  It  was  first  heard  in  the  Church  on  the 
occasion  of  the  death  of  James  the  Just.,'!  In  the  third 
century  it  was  adopted  in  public  worship. IT 

*  Rev.  xix.  1-6.  t  St.  Jerome,  **Ep."27. 

J  "  Laudate  Dominum."  Augustine,   "Sermon  de  tempor."  sermon  151. 

§  Matt.  xxi.  9-1 1;  Mark  xi.  9,  10.  ||  Eusebius,  "  H.  E."  ii.  23. 

^]  "Const.  Apost."  xiii.  13. 


2g8  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

The  Kyrie  Eleison,  *'  Lord,  have  mercy  upon  us,"  is 
an  echo  of  the  touching  prayer  of  the  blind  man  of 
Jericho,  taken  up,  as  it  were,  by  all  the  wounded,  weary 
souls  who  seek  their  refuge  in  the  compassions  of 
Christ.  It  was  so  generally  in  use  in  the  time  of 
St.  Augustine,  that  it  must  have  been  introduced  in  the 
age  preceding.  It  is  found  in  some  of  the  most  ancient 
liturgies.*  The  Gloria^  the  sublime  prolongation  of 
the  Christmas  song  of  the  angels,  is  also  of  great  anti- 
quity, and  received  large  additions  at  the  close  of  the 
third  century. t  St.  Hilary  subsequently  gave  it  its 
ultimate  form  in  the  Latin  Church.  The  Pax  Vo- 
hiscum  was  in  use  in  the  time  of  TertuUian,  who 
bitterly  accuses  the  heretics  of  profaning  it.  Cyprian 
mentions  it  in  one  of  his  letters.  I  The  Dominus 
Vohiscum,  with  the  response  of  the  congregation,  is 
of  less  ancient  origin,  and  was  adopted  in  the  West 
alone,  the  East  preferring  the  Pax  Vobiscum.^  The 
Oremus,  or  invitation  of  the  deacon  to  the  assembly  to 
pray,  is  mentioned  in  the  ''Apostolical  Constitutions." 
The  Siirsinn  Corda  also  occurs  there.  ||  Cyprian  positively 
confirms  the  use  of  it  in  the  Church  of  his  day.  The 
Agnus  Dei  is  of  later  date. 

It  is  clear  that  the  assembly  took  part  in  the  service 
by  means  of  these  brief  ejaculations,  by  which  it  appro- 
priated the  prayers  offered  in  its  name. 

*  "  Liturgia  Marci. "     Bunsen,  "  Antenic?ena, "  iii.  123. 

t  "Const.  Apost."  vii.  47. 

+  TertuUian,  "  De  prce?ci-ipt, "  11,  "  Auspicatus  est  pacem  dum  dedicat 
lectionem."     Cyprian,  "Ep.  "38,  2, 

§  The  Synod  of  Braga,  in  Portugal,  A.D.  511,  renders  obligatory  the 
ionxmXdi,  Dominus  vobiscum,  \\  "Const.  Apost."  viii.  12. 


SACRED    SONG.  299 

§  2. — Sacred  Song  and  the  Reading  of  the  Scriptures. 

The  hymn  uniting  poetry  and  music  forms  an  import- 
ant feature  of  Christian  worship.  Poetry  is  admir- 
ably adapted  by  two  characteristics  for  the  expression 
of  rehgious  feeHng.  First,  its  rhythm  gives  concentra- 
tion and  increased  force  to  the  words  used  ;  it  is  like  a 
strong  wind  bearing  man's  utterance  upward.  Second, 
it  does  not  limit  the  idea,  like  the  precision  of  prose, 
but  opens  vague  vistas  of  the  unknown,  like  landscapes 
fading  in  dim  mysterious  distance.  In  this  twofold 
respect  poetry  is  adapted  to  express  all  those  mightier 
instincts  of  the  soul  which  reach  after  the  invisible. 
Music,  equally  obedient  to  the  laws  of  rhythm,  alone 
has  power  to  enter  the  regions  which  words  can  neither 
explore  nor  express,  that  secret  sanctuary  of  the  soul 
where  are  formed  those  aspirations  of  the  higher  na- 
ture which  can  be  borne  to  heaven  only  by  the  voice  of 
song.  The  hymn  had  its  special  place  in  Christian 
worship.  It  was,  more  directly  than  prayer,  the  voice 
of  the  whole  assembly,  which  thus  took  part  actively  in 
the  common  adoration.  Its  cradle  was  not  the  syna- 
gogue, where  the  frigid  service  consisted  only  of  reading 
and  prayer,  without  any  intermingling  songs  of  praise.* 
Christian  song  comes  directly  from  the  temple,  the 
offspring  of  that  grand  Hebrew  poetry  uttered  by 
lips  touched  by  the  live  coal  from  off  the  altar,  the 
sublimest  lyric  expression  ever  given  to  the  griefs  and 
yearnings  of  the  human  heart. 

At  first  the  Church  confined  herself  to  the  singing  of  the 
Hebrew  psalms.     She  remembered  that  Jesus  had  sung 

*  Luke  iv.  17  ;  Acts  xv.  21. 


300  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

the  Paschal  psalm  with  His  disciples  in  the  upper 
chamber  at  Jerusalem  on  that  first  celebration  of  the 
Eucharist  which  formed  for  her  the  highest  type  of 
worship.     This  custom  was  never  abandoned. 

In  the  second  book  of  the  "  Apostolical  Constitutions  " 
we  find  the  following  direction  :  "'*  Let  one  of  the  readers 
chant  the  hymns  of  David,  and  let  the  people  sing 
after  him  the  closing  words."  *  St.  Augustine  is  not 
less  explicit.  "  Let  us  chant  the  psalm,  exhorting  one 
another,  and  let  us  all  say,  with  one  voice,  '  We  wor- 
ship, we  bow  and  humble  ourselves  before  the  Lord 
our  Creator.'  "  t  When  the  Church  desired  to  express 
such  sentiments  as  adoration  and  repentance,  which  are 
as  appropriate  to  Christianity  as  to  Judaism,  she  could 
not  do  better  than  take  up  the  immortal  words  of  the 
psalter  of  Zion.  There  could  be  no  fitter  utterance  of 
the  majesty  and  power  of  the  Creator  God,  of  His 
goodness  to  His  children.  His  merciful  protection ;  no 
more  powerful  expression  of  sacred  sorrow  for  sin. 
The  Psalms  are  already  wet  with  the  tears  of  the 
"  woman  who  was  a  sinner,"  and  breathe  in  antici- 
pation the  fragrance  of  her  precious  ointment.  They 
form  the  most  natural  utterance  of  penitent  lips 
seeking  and  receiving  pardon  from  their  God  and 
Saviour.  The  joy  of  deliverance  rings  through  many 
of  the  Hebrew  hymns,  and,  interpreted  by  a  yet  higher 
deliverance,  they  formed  the  most  triumphant  eucha- 
ristic  hymns  of  the  Church.  We  can  well  understand 
how  gladly  the  Christians  received  this  heritage  of  the 
Old  Testament,  and  how  joyfully  those   hymns  would 

*  "Erepng  rig  rove  tov  Aa€id  -tpaXXsTio  vfivovg  Kai  6  Xabg  ra  aKpoarixia 
VTroxl/aXXkruj.     "Const.  Apost."ii.  57. 

t  Augustine,  "  Sermo  10  de  verbis  apostolic." 


SACRED    SONG.  3OI 

resound  in  the  day  of  fulfilment,  which  had  cheered 
their  forefathers  in  the  long  night  of  waiting,  when 
they  watched  for  the  coming  of  Messiah  "more  than 
they  that  watch  for  the  morning."  Thus  the  Church 
attested  the  unity  of  the  two  Testaments. 

Custom  assigned  particular  psalms  to  certain  days 
and  hours.  Thus  we  know  that  the  Church  had  her 
morning  and  evening  psalms."  St.  Augustine  quotes 
as  an  ancient  practice,  the  singing  of  the  twenty-third 
Psalm  on  Good  Friday.!  It  appears  to  have  been 
the  duty  of  the  bishop  to  indicate  the  psalm  to  be 
sung.I 

The  Church  could  not  content  herself,  however,  with 
the  Hebrew  psalms  alone,  for  it  was  true  of  this  branch 
of  worship  as  of  doctrine,  that  Mosaism  had  brought 
nothing  to  perfection.  The  Christian  must  find  a  new 
form  of  expression  for  his  own  peculiar  sentiments. 
We  have  seen  that,  from  the  apostolic  age,  the  Church 
had  her  own  hymns,  sometimes  improvised  under  the 
inspiration  of  the  moment,  sometimes  composed  and 
handed  down  for  her  worship.  Those  spiritual  songs 
of  which  St.  Paul  spoke  were  not  mere  psalms.  In 
the  next  century,  we  learn  from  the  letter  of  Pliny  the 
Younger  that  the  Christians  had  composed  hymns  of 
praise  to  Jesus  Christ. 

There  were  not  only  private  morning  and  evening 
hymns,  like  those  we  have  already  quoted  ;  there  were 
others,  adapted  for  use  in  public  worship.  We  repro- 
duce two  of  these,  the  date  of  which  cannot  be  accu- 

*  "Const.  Apost."  viii.  37  ;  ii.  59.  The  morning  psalm  was  the  73rd, 
and  the  evening  the  141st. 

t  Augustine,  "  In  Ps.  xxi.;  "  "Sermon"  2 
t  Ibid.      "In  Ps.  cxxxviii." 


302  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

rately  fixed,  but  which,  from  the  character  of  the  diction, 
we  judge  to  be  of  high  antiquity. 

Morning  Hymn. 

Glory  to  God  in  the  highest, 

And  on  earth  peace 

To  the  men  of  good  will. 

We  praise  Thee, 

We  bless  Thee, 

W^e  adore  Thee,  we  glorify  Thee, 

We  give  Thee  thanks, 

Because  of  Thy  great  glory, 

O  Lord  God, 

King  of  heaven, 

God  the  Father  Almighty, 

O  Lord  the  Son,  only-begotten, 

O  Jesus  Christ  ! 


O  Lord  God, 

The  Lamb  of  God, 

The  Son  of  the  Father, 

[Thou]  who  takest  away  the  sins  of  the  world 

Have  mercy  upon  us  ! 

[Thou]  who  takest  away  the  sins  of  the  world. 


Accept  our  prayer  ! 

[Thou]  who  sittest  at  the  right  hand  of  the  Father, 
Have  mercy  upon  us, 
Inasmuch  as  Thou  only  art  holy, 
Thou  only  art  Lord, 
Thou  only  art  Most  High. 
O  Jesus  Christ, 
With  the  Holy  Ghost, 
Thou  (art)  the  glory  of  God  the  Father. 
Amen. 


SACRED    SONG.  .       303 

Evening  Hymn. 

Children,  praise  the  Lord, 
Praise  ye  the  name  of  the  Lord. 
We  praise  Thee,  we  hymn  Thee,  we  bless  Thee, 
Because  of  the  greatness  of  Thy  glory. 
O  Lord  the  King,  the  Father  of  Christ, 
Of  the  spotless  Lamb,  who  taketh  away 
The  sin  of  the  world, 
To  Thee  belongeth  praise, 
To  Thee  belongeth  scng, 
To  Thee  belongeth  glory,  to  [Thee]  the  God 
And  Father,  through  the  Son,  in  the  Spirit, 
To  [Thee]  the  Most  Holy,  unto  ages  of  ages. 
Amen.  * 

Some  such  form  would  naturally  be  assumed  by  the 
hymns  of  the  early  Church.  We  shall  not  find  any 
attempt  at  originality  of  thought  or  beauty  of  expres- 
sion. They  are  simply  repetitions  of  the  facts  of  the 
sacred  narrative,  prolonged  echoes  of  the  first  gospel 
hymn  that  resounded  over  the  plains  of  Bethlehem. 
The  early  Christians  did  not  find  any  monotony  in 
these  simple  hymns  of  praise,  because  their  hearts  were 
full  of  adoration  that  delighted  thus  to  pour  itself  forth. 
Apart  from  this  devotional  fervour,  the  hymns  would 
be  but  empty  words,  devoid  of  any  beauty,  useless  sails, 
fiapping  idly  against  the  mast,  no  longer  filled  with  the 
wind  of  heaven. 

Tertullian  t  and  Origen  refer  to  the  existence  of  these 
ancient  hymnc.  "  Celsus,"  says  Origen,  "  maintains 
that  we  should  better  honour  the  most  high  God  if  we 
sang  hymns  to  the  sun  and  moon.     We  know  that  it  is 

*  Bunsen,  '*  Antenicsena,"  iii.  S6,  89. 
t  '■'  Sonant  inter  duos  psalmi  et  hymni. "     Tertullian,  "Ad  uxor."  ii.  9. 


304  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

otherwise,  for  we  offer  our  adoration  only  to  the  God 
who  reigns  over  the  universe,  and  to  His  only  Son  ; 
and  thus  we  praise  Him  and  His  only  Son,  as  do  the 
sun  and  moon  and  all  the  host  of  heaven  ;  for  all  these 
heavenly  hosts,  like  a  celestial  choir,  unite  with  just 
men  in  worshipping  God  and  the  Son  of  God.  *  We 
see,  then,  that  God  and  Christ  were  the  sole  objects  of 
adoration  in  the  hymns  of  the  Christians.  Thus,  when 
Paul  of  Samosata  allowed  hymns  to  his  praise  to  be 
sung  in  his  church  at  Csesarea,  he  called  down  universal 
reprobation.! 

The  hymns  of  the  Church  appear  to  have  rapidly 
multiplied  at  this  period.  We  read  in  an  ancient  docu- 
ment, quoted  by  Eusebius  :  "  A  great  number  of  psalms 
and  hymns  have  been  from  the  beginning  written  by 
the  Fathers  to  the  praise  of  the  Word  of  God,  who  is 
His  Christ."  I  These  were  not  only,  sung  in  the 
churches,  but,  according  to  Clement  of  Alexandria,  the 
Christians  loved  to  repeat  them,  at  all  times  and  under 
all  circumstances,  while  they  worked  and  when  they 
journeyed.  §  "  Do  you  ask  for  hymns  and  songs  ?  "  says 
TertuUian  to  the  Christians  whom  he  would  persuade 
to  forsake  the  theatres  :  "  we  have  them  in  abun- 
dance." II  The  greater  part  of  these  Christian  poets 
are  unknown ;  only  Athenagoras  and  Nepos  are  men- 
tioned.^ 

*  'TiJLVoviJiiv  ye  Qtbv  Kai  top  iiovoytvi)  avrov.  Origen,  "Contra  Cels." 
viii.  67.  t  Eusebius,  "  H.  E."  vii.  30. 

I  "^aXf-iol  Ce  oaoi  Kai  bided  air  ap^riQ  vttu  ttigtCjv  ypcubdGai  a.ceX(piuv. 
Ibid.  V.  28.  ^ 

§  TtajpyovfJiv  aivovvreg,  TrXaofi^v  vfivovvreg.  Clement  of  Alexandria, 
*'  Strom."  vii.  17,  35.    Comp.  Origen,  "  De  orat. "  2. 

Ij  "Si  scenicre  docti-in^e  delectant,  satis  versuum  est,  satis  etiam  canti- 
corum,  satis  vocum. "     TertuUian,  "  De  spectacul. "  29. 

M  Basil,  "De  spiritusanvjto  ad  Amphil."c,  29;  Eusebius,  "H.  E."vii.  24. 


SACRED    SONG.  305 

The  value  attached  to  these  early  Christian  hymns  is 
proved  by  the  fact  that  the  heretics  sought  to  have 
theirs  also,  that  they  might  not  be  deprived  of  so  great 
an  advantage.  Paul  of  Samosata  was  led  on  to  the 
daring  innovation  just  mentioned  by  his  opposition  to 
the  orthodox  hymns,  which  did  not  coincide  with  his 
Unitarian  views.*  The  Gnostic  Bardesanes  composed 
some  hymns,  full  of  his  pantheistic  dualism,  f  Other 
Gnostics  appear  to  have  imitated  him.t  ApoUinaris 
also  wrote  hymns.  § 

We  know  but  little  of  the  music  to  which  these  early 
Christian  hymns  were  set.  Most  of  them  were  sung  by 
the  whole  congregation.  It  subsequently  became  the 
practice  for  the  assembly  to  listen  to  the  presiding 
minister,  and  only  to  repeat,  as  a  sort  of  refrain,  the 
closing  words.  Even  this  custom,  which  was  made  a 
rule  by  the  Council  of  Laodicea,  with  a  view  to  the 
elevation  of  the  clergy,  does  not  appear  to  have  been 
generally  adopted.il  Chrysostom  declares  emphatically 
that  in  the  earliest  ages  of  the  Church,  as  in  his  time, 
all  voices  joined  in  the  hymns.  "  Men,  women,  and 
children,"  he  says,  "  are  distinguishable  only  by  their 
manner  of  singing,  for  the  spirit  which  directs  the  voice 
of  each  blends  all  into  one  strain  of  melody."  H 

Christian  antiquity,  however,  was  familiar  with  the 
refrain,  and  especially  with  the  alternate  chants,  in 
which  two  choirs  answered  each  other.  This  mode 
of  singing  appears  to  be  of  very  ancient  date,  at  least 

*  Eusebius,  "  H.  E."  vii.  3.  t  Sozom.  "  H.  E."  iii.  16. 

I  Tei-tullian,  "  De  came  Christi,"  20;     Iren^us,  "  Adv.  haeres."  111.  15. 
§  Sozom.  "H.  E."vi.  25.  |1  "  Concil.  Laodic."c.  15. 

^,r  'Evvrjeaav  to  TraXcnbv  drravTeg  Kai  vTrerpaXKov  KOivy  ti)p  Udarov  ^wv>}v 
TO  Trveufia  Kipdffav,  fxiav  4v  airaaLV  tpydZsrai  rtjv  /xeXujdiav.  Chrysostom, 
'*  Homil.  36,  in  Corinth." 

21 


306  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

in  S3Tia,  for  according  to  a  legend  recorded  by  the 
historian  Socrates,  it  was  revealed  to  Ignatius,  bishop 
of  Antioch,  in  a  vision,  in  which  the  heavenly  choirs 
appeared  to  him  arranged  in  this  order.  This  vision 
was  only  a  reproduction  of  the  ecstasy  of  the  prophet 
Isaiah  and  of  the  magnificent  descriptions  of  the  Apoc- 
alypse. It  is  certain  that  alternating  chants  are  to  be 
traced  back  as  far  as  the  second  century,  whether  or 
not  they  are  to  be  attributed  to  Ignatius.*  The  West 
did  not  adopt  them  till  much  later,  probably  under  the 
influence  of  Ambrose,  who  was  the  great  master  of 
sacred  song  in  the  fourth  century. 

The  Christians  must  have  had  recourse  for  their 
melodies  to  the  music  of  the  Jews  and  Greeks,  but  it 
is  impossible  to  ascertain  the  proportion  in  which 
the  two  were  blended,  or  the  character  of  the  result. 
Musical  art  in  Judaea  was  grand  and  solemn  rather 
than  varied  ;  in  Greece  it  had  been  more  widely  culti- 
vated. Music  was  there  held  in  high  esteem.  Pytha- 
goras regarded  it  as  an  echo  of  the  universal  harmony 
of  the  spheres ;  and  Plato,  in  his  ideal  republic,  repre- 
sented it  as  not  a  mere  embellishment  of  life,  but  a 
means  of  moral  education,  giving  the  sense  of  measure 
in  all  things.  The  great  classical  music  had  the  same 
chaste  beauty,  the  same  purity  of  form,  which  we  ad- 
mire in  the  statuary  of  Phidias. 

Vocal  music,  which  alone  was  used  in  the  primitive 
Church,  had   none  of  those   resources  of  harmony  at 

*  Socrales,  "H.  E."ii.  8.  Theodoret,  "  H.  K"  iii.  24,  asserts  that 
alternate  chants  were  only  introduced  at  Antioch,  under  Constantine,  by  the 
monks  Flavianus  and  Diodorus.  The  contradiction  between  Socrates  and 
Theodoret  is  explained  by  Theodore  of  JNlopsuestia,  quoted  by  jSicetas, 
who  dates  from  the  fifth  century  the  translation  from  Syriac  into  Greek  of 
the  alternate  chants.      Xicet.  "  Thesaur.  orthod."  v.  30. 


SACRED    SONG.  307 

command  which  high  art  has  adopted  in  modern  times. 
The  science  of  harmony  had  made  but  little  progress ; 
the  chant  never  extended  over  more  than  two  octaves, 
and  was  generally  restricted  to  one.  The  music  was 
always  subordinate  to  the  poetry,  and  was  chiefly  reci- 
tative. The  choral  chant  was  sung  in  unison,  with  only 
the  difference  of  octave  between  the  voices  of  the  men 
and  women.* 

M.Gervaert  well  says  :  "  Inthe  music  of  ancient  Greece 
it  is  not  the  magic  of  concerted  sounds,  the  impres- 
sive effect  of  the  harmony,  which  constitutes  the  value 
of  the  work;  but  the  purity  of  tone,  the  beauty  of  the 
melody,  the  perfect  adaptation  of  the  rhythmical  form 
to  the  sentiment  expressed.  A  melodious  idea,  sober  in 
outline  and  expression,  indicating  the  general  feeling 
by  some  simple  and  exquisite  points,  accompanied  by  a 
few  harmonic  intervals — ^such  is  the  work  of  the  ancient 
composer.  If  it  is  asked  how  it  was  possible  out  of 
such  primitive  elements  to  create  really  beautiful 
works,  we  reply  by  simply  referring  the  reader  to  some 
of  the  early  Christian  compositions — the  Te  Detim,  for 
example. t 

The  character  and  object  of  Christian  worship  led 
the  Church  to  reproduce  this  simple  art,  so  pure  and 
so  well  adapted  to  her  sacred  songs.  She  was  the 
guardian  of  the  best  traditions  of  classical  music  in  an 
age  when  degenerate  art,  borrowing  from  the  East  and 
still  more  largely  from  Egypt,  sought  by  the  combina- 
tion of  instruments  and  of  voices  to  excite  and  stimulate 

*  Friedlander,  "  Roman  Manners  from  the  reign  of  AugiiGtus  to  the  age 
of  the  Antonines.'"    Translation  of  Ch.  Vog-l,  vol.  iii.  ppTssG,  357. 

t  "  History  and  Theory  of  the  Mu,ic  of  ..aLinuity."  By  Au^.  Gervaert. 
Ghent,  iS/v  vol.  i.  p.  35. 

21  * 


308  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

evil  passions,  especially  in  the  luxurious  feasts,  which, 
like  the  theatres  and  pantomimes,  were  the  nurseries 
of  all  vice.* 

Instrumental  music  was  banished  from  Christian 
worship  till  the  peace  of  the  Church.  According  to 
Clement  of  Alexandria,  the  human  voice  is  the  only 
harp  worthy  of  the  Word  of  God.t  He  would  have 
all  Christians  carefully  avoid,  even  in  their  own  houses, 
any  approach  to  elaborate  and  secular  music.  He  says  : 
"We  may  allow  music  only  in  moderation:  we  must 
eschew  above  all  things  those  soft  harmonies  and  arti- 
fices of  practised  vocalists,  that  intoxicate  the  soul  with 
unholy  delights. "J  These  rules  laid  down  for  family 
festivities  applied  with  still  greater  force  to  the  public 
worship  of  the  Church,  and  the  Christians  appear  to 
have  conformed  to  them  until  the  fourth  century.  "The 
primitive  Church,"  says  Isidore  of  Seville,  "  sang  in 
such  a  manner  that  the  modulations  of  the  voice 
scarcely  rose  above  the  speaking  tone."§  Paul  of 
Samosata  appears  to  have  departed  from  this  primi- 
tive simplicity,  introducing  into  the  Church  choirs  of 
w^omen,  whose  singing  might  add  to  the  meretricious 
display  in  which  he  delighted.  If  we  may  judge  from 
the  description  given  us  by  St.  Augustine  of  sacred  song 
in  the  age  of  St.  Ambrose,  and  of  the  profound  im- 
pression it  produced  upon  him   when   he   had  not  yet 

*  Clement  of  Alexandria,  "Psedag,"  ii.  4,44;  Friedlander,  work  quoted, 
vol.  iii. 

t  Clement  of  Alexandria,  "  Strom."  ii.  4,  43. 

I  Kai  yap  apj^iopiat^  TrupactiCTiov  rag  tribrppovag,  dTroTciTU)  OTi  naXiara  Tag 
vypug  ovTior  avi.ioi'iac.      Ibid.   "  P^dng. "  ii.  4,  44. 

§  "  Primitiva  Ecclesia  ita  psallebat  ut  modico  flexu  vocis  faceret  psal- 
lentem  resonare  ita  ut  prononcianti  vicinior  asset  quam  canenti. "  Isidore 
of  Seville,  "  De  eccles.  offic."  i.  5. 


READING    OF   THE    SCRIPTURES.  309 

renounced  paganism,  we  must  conclude  that  sacred  music 
must  have  made  rapid  progress,  since  it  had  attained 
such  a  degree  of  perfection  in  the  fourth  century.  The 
brilHant  pagan  rhetor  shed  tears  of  delight  as  he  heard 
the  alternating  chants  of  the  Church  of  Milan. 

What  emotions  may  not  have  been  produced,  at  the 
period  of  the  great  conflicts  of  Christianity,  by  the 
singing  of  very  simple  hymns,  rendered  sublime  by  the 
united  voice  of  numbers,  and  poured  forth  as  the  cry 
of  the  Church  militant. 

The  reading  of  the  holy  Scriptures  formed,  as  we 
have  seen,  a  very  important  part  of  the  service  of  the 
Church.  During  the  apostolit  age  it  was  confined  to 
the  Old  Testament,  as  the  only  canonical  book  then 
recognised  ;  but  when  the  letters  of  the  apostles  were 
received  by  the  different  Churches,  the  reading  of  these 
was  added.  In  the  time  of  Justin  the  Gospels  were 
regularly  read."  This  part  of  the  service  was  con- 
sidered of  such  importance,  that  a  special  office  was 
created  for  it.  The  enemies  of  the  Church  acknow- 
ledged the  value  of  the  sacred  writings  by  the  bitterness 
with  which  they  sought  their  destruction,  as  in  the 
edict  of  Diocletian,  which  condemned  them  to  the 
flames. t 

The  bishop  appointed  the  passage  of  Scripture  to  be 
read,!  but  the  lessons  were  not  fixed  at  first,  as  they 
were  subsequently,  for  the  whole  course  of  the  ecclesi- 
astical year.  The  books  of  Scripture  were  read  through 
continuously,  the  reader  exercising  his  judgment  where 

*  Justin,   "Apol."  i.    67;    Tertullian,    *'Apol."39;    Origen,    "Contra 
Cels."  iii.  45-50  ;  "  Const.  Apost."  ii.  57. 
t  Eusebius,  "  H.  E."  viii.  2. 
X  Augustine,  *' Archaeology,"  vol.  ii.  p.  197. 


3IO  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

to  stop,  as  the  division  into  chapters  had  no  existence 
as  yet.  There  can  be  no  doubt,  however,  that  in  the 
great  festivities  of  the  Church  the  Scriptures  appropriate 
to  them  were  read:  we  find  this  to  have  been  a  rule  in 
the  time  of  St.  Augustine."  We  should  conclude  from 
the  Homilies  on  Job,  ascribed  to  Origen,  that  in  his  day 
the  Book  of  Job  was  the  subject  of  reading  and  medita- 
tion during  the  anniversary  of  the  Passion. t  The  canon- 
ical books  alone  were  to  be  read  in  public  service  up  to 
the  close  of  the  third  century ;  but  there  \vas  so  much 
uncertainty  at  this  period  as  to  what  constituted  the 
canon,  that  the  departures  from  this  rule  were  probably 
frequent.  Thus  "Pastor  Hermas"  was  long  in  great 
favour  with  the  Churches,  as  were  also  the  First  Epistle 
of  Clement,  the  apocryphal  writings  of  St.  Peter,  and  the 
"Apostolical  Constitutions."  I  A  distinction  was  made 
between  the  gospels  and  the  epistles:  the  desk  from 
which  the  gospel  was  read  was  notably  higher  than 
that  used  for  the  epistles.  The  reading  of  the  sacred 
books  was  listened  to  in  a  standing§  posture,  and 
prefaced  by  the  words,  "  Peace  be  with  you."  The 
"  Acts  of  the  Martyrs  "  were  read  on  their  feast  days.|| 

*  Augustine,  "  Expositio  in  I  Johann. " 

t  •*  Similiter  autem  et  in  conventu  Ecclesice  in  diebus  Sanctis  legitur 
passio  Job,  in  diebus  jejunii,  in  diebus  in  quibus  in  jejunio  et  abstinentia 
sanctam  Domini  nostro  Jesu  Christi  Passionem  sectamur. "  "Anonym,  in 
Job  liber  i.  ;"    Origen,  "Opera,"  Huel's  edition,  vol.  ii.  p.  851. 

I  Eusebius, ."  H.  E."  iii.  3,  16,  25;  iv.  21;  vi.  14. 
§  "  Const.  Apost."  ii.  57. 

II  Tertullian,  "  De  coron."  3.  "Quoties  martyrum  passiones  et  dies 
anniversaria  conimemoratione  celebramus. "  Cyprian,  "Ep."39,  3.  The 
closing  words  explain  the  reading  of  the  "Acts  of  the  Martyrs."  Comp. 
Eusebius,  iv.  15;  v.  4. 


PREACHING.  311 

§  3. — Preaching. 

Christianity  is  the  religion  of  the  Word,  the  Divine 
Word,  the  express  image  and  perfect  reflection  of  the 
eternal  Spirit.  It  is  fitting  therefore  that  in  Christian 
worship  a  prominent  place  should  be  given  to  the  words 
of  Him  who  is  Himself  the  only  living,  personal,  creative 
Word.  As  the  religion  of  the  Spirit  is  free  from  all 
pantheistic  materialism,  Christianity  addresses  itself 
primarily  to  the  mind  and  to  the  will.  Now  speech  is 
the  organ  of  the  mind,  by  which  the  mind  is  first,  as  it 
were,  made  conscious  of  itself  by  finding  its  proper 
expression,  and  is  then  brought  into  contact  with  other 
minds.  It  acts  upon  the  will  without  laying  any 
coercion  upon  it.  The  moral  world  has  no  nobler  in- 
strument, none  better  adapted  to  its  ends.  Words  are 
the  medium  of  all  the  relations  between  free  beings, 
including  the  holiest  of  all — the  relation  between  our 
souls  and  God.  The  more  directly  a  religion  emanates 
from  God  and  bears  the  impress  of  His  spirituality,  the 
more  important  will  be  the  place  it  assigns  in  its  worship 
to  language,  by  which  I  mean  not  a  mere  formulary  or 
repetition,  but  that  which  conveys  thought  and  feeling. 
Hence  sacrifice  itself  finds  its  highest  expression  in  the 
utterance  of  prayer. 

Even  prayer  is  inadequate  ;  for,  as  we  have  shown, 
adoration  carries  us  beyond  all  that  is  finite  and  defin- 
able into  the  mysterious  region  of  things  that  cannot 
be  uttered.  Yet  it  can  never  be  pure  ecstasy,  in  which 
thought  and  will  are  alike  lost.  It  must  ever  feel 
its  foundation  in  the  historical  facts  of  Scripture,  and 


312  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

find  its  consummation  in  those  acts  of  willing  sei^ice 
to  which  it  is  exhorted  by  the  Word. 

Christianity  is  not  like  the  religions  of  nature,  inter- 
course between  a  material  deity  and  his  worshippers. 
In  these  religions  rites  take  the  place  of  prayer,  and 
preaching  has  no  existence.  The  heavy  smoke  of  the 
holocaust  must  go  up  to  the  pagan  god  ;  none  would 
dream  of  pleasing  the  deaf  idol  of  stone  or  wood  by 
speaking  to  it.  It  must  be  appeased,  if  at  all,  by 
i  acrifices,  gross  and  material  as  itself,  and  the  priest's 
work  is  done  when  he  comes  down  from  the  altar  on 
which  the  blood  has  been  shed.  He  has  no  morality 
to  preach  in  a  religion  framed  to  dispense  with  morality. 

For  all  these  reasons,  preaching  is  the  glory  and  the 
necessity  of  Christianity,  which  aims  to  make  saints  by 
revealing  the  holiness  and  love  of  the  God  of  the  gospel. 
Worship  may  not  consist  of  preaching  alone,  or  it  be- 
comes a  mere  school  of  philosophy  ;  but  neither,  on  the 
other  hand,  can  preaching  be  despised  without  the 
tone  of  the  service  being  lowered.  Public  worship 
should  not  be  mere  ritual  nor  mere  preaching  ;  both 
should  blend  in  producing  the  rationahik  obsequmm — 
the  obedience  of  the  free  and  reasonable  creature. 

In  the  primitive  age  of  Christianity,  preaching  pro- 
perly so  called  is  unknown.  This  is  the  age  of  in- 
spiration. Utterance  is  free,  spontaneous,  fervent,  and 
irrepressible  in  the  assemblies  of  the  Christians.  There 
is  the  full  exercise  of  the  gift  of  prophecy,  the  miraculous 
manifestation  of  the  Divine  Spirit.  When  this  impas- 
sioned utterance  subsides,  it  is  for  a  long  time  followed 
only  by  simple  testimony  borne  to  the  great  facts  of 
redemption,  the  brief,  heartfelt  recital  of  the  gospel  story. 


PREACHING.  313 

which  is  not  at  this  time  embodied  in  any  written 
documents  of  a  canonical  character.  Preaching  only 
commenced  when  the  extraordinary  gifts  of  the  Spirit 
had  become  rare,  and  when  recourse  was  had  to  the 
newly  written  sacred  books.  Without  losing  its  primi- 
tive simplicity,  the  teaching  in  the  Churches  now 
assumed  a  different  character,  and  demanded  in  the 
preachers,  not  only  the  enthusiasm  of  the  moment,  but 
previous  meditation  and  preparation.  Preaching  occu- 
pied from  this  time  a  regular  place  in  public  worship. 
It  was  closely  connected  with  the  reading  of  the  Scrip- 
tures, which  it  was  designed  faithfully  to  interpret,  for 
the  instruction  and  edification  of  the  people.  Hence  it 
could  not  well  become  a  mere  dissertation  or  oratorical 
harangue.  It  retained  this  expository  character  not 
only  in  the  second,  but  in  the  third  century.  The 
preacher  did  not  choose  an  isolated  verse  of  Scripture, 
and  make  this  the  basis  of  his  teaching:  he  took  as  his 
subject  the  whole  passage  which  had  been  read.  The 
homily  preceded  the  sermon,  properly  so  called,  which 
was  not  introduced  till  a  much  later  date.*  All  Origen's 
discourses  are  called  homilies,  a  title  which  signifies  an 
address  to  a  mixed  assembly. 

The  preaching  of  the  second  century  bears  an  exact 
resemblance  to  that  which  was  delivered  in  the  Jewish 
synagogue  after  the  reading  of  the  Scriptures.  Christ 
Himself  had  given  the  model  of  this  preaching  in  the 
synagogue  of.Capernaum,  when  He  expounded  His  own 
mission  from  one  of  the  grand  texts  in  Isaiah,  which 
He  had  just  read  in  the  audience  of  the  people. t 

*  "OfiiXoQ  signifies  mixed  assembly.  The  word  ofiiKrjoaQ  occurs  in  Acts 
XX.  II  ;  Augustine,  "Archoeol."  vol.  ii.  p.  243.  f  Luke  iv.  16,  18. 


314  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

The  preacher  was  either  the  bishop  himself  or 
one  appointed  by  him.  No  layman,  not  even  Origen, 
could  lill  the  office,  unless  invited  and  authorised  by 
the  bishop.*  The  bishop  preached  from  his  elevated 
episcopal  seat  ;  the  preacher  sometimes  occupied  the 
place  vacated  by  the  reader.!  The  hearers  appear 
during  the  second  and  third  centuries  to  have  remained 
seated  ;  in  the  fourth  century  the  custom  was  introduced 
of  standing  to  listen. J  The  discourse  was  also  often 
commenced  by  the  elders  of  the  Church,  and  concluded 
and  summed  up  by  the  bishop. §  In  no  case  was  a 
woman  allowed  to  preach,  ||  except  among  the  heretics. 1 

Paul  of  Samosata  is  severely  blamed  for  having 
allowed  applause  in  the  church.**  The  homily,  during 
the  whole  of  this  period,  was  not  a  written  discourse, 
but  a  free  improvisation.  The  discourses  of  Origen 
were  taken  down  by  rapid  scribes,  and  revised  by  him- 
self.ft  This  custom  was  long  continued.  St.  Augustine 
relates  that  one  day,  the  reader  having  mistaken  the 
passage  to  be  read,  he  at  once  adapted  his  discourse  to 
the  Scriptures  thus  wrongly  given.  The  homily  is  pri- 
marily exegetical  and  practical.  Justin  Martyr  brings  out 
the  latter  characteristic  when  he  says  that  the  preacher 
urges  his  hearers  to  imitate  the  holy  examples  he  has 
brought  before  them.  J  J 

*  Eusebius,  "  H.  E."  vi.  19. 

t  Socrates,  "  H.  E.''  vi.  5  ;  Sozom.  "  H.  E."  viii.  5. 

I  "  Const.  Apost."  ii.  57.  "Errfira  dviardfieOa  Koivy  Trdvrtg.  Justin 
Martyr,  "  Apol."  i.  67. 

§  Kat  i^j/t,"  TrapaKaXfiTtJCfav  01  TrpicrdvTepoi  rhv  Xadv  Kai  TsXEVTaXog  7rdvTU)v 
b  ininKOTTOQ.      "  Const.  Apost."  ii.  57. 

(1  Ibid,  iii.  9;  Tertullian,  "De  prcescript."  41.  "Non  permittitur  mulier 
in  ecclesia  loqui."     lljid.  "De  virgin,  veland."  9. 

H  Montanism  assigned  an  important  place  to  women. 

**  Eusebius,  "  H.  E."  vii.  30.  ft  Ibid.  vi.  36. 

X\  Justin,  "  Apol."  i.  67. 


PREACHING.  315 

Tertullian  describes  the  object  of  preaching  to  be  to 
nourish  faith,  to  quicken  hope,  to  incite  to  a  sterner 
exercise  of  discipHne,  to  rebuke,  to  exhort,  to  bring  the 
teaching  to  bear  upon  the  circumstances  of  the  time, 
and  to  draw  from  it  lessons  for  the  future.*  Origen 
says:  "  We  endeavour  by  the  reading  of  holy  Scripture, 
and  by  the  interpretation  of  it,  to  nurture  piety  and  its 
attendant  virtues,  by  weaning  our  hearers  from  the  con- 
tempt of  Divine  things,  and  from  all  which  is  not  con- 
sistent with  the  word  of  truth."  t  Without  imitating 
in  any  way  the  esoterism  of  pagan  philosophy,  which 
was  but  a  proud  assumption  of  the  aristocracy  of  in- 
tellect, the  Church  made  a  difference  between  those 
hearers  who  were  still  novices,  catechumens  of  the  lowest 
grade,  and  those  who  had  received  a  complete  course  of 
instruction,  especially  the  baptised.  The  former  class 
were  to  be  shown  their  errors,  and  raised  from  the 
worship  of  the  creature  to  the  adoration  of  the  holy 
God,  and  to  the  knowledge  of  the  Saviour  predicted  by 
the  prophets  and  proclaimed  by  the  apostles.  The 
latter  class  took  part  in  the  true  Christian  worship, 
which  might  not  be  even  witnessed  by  eyes  profane,  and 
to  these  disciples  were  unfolded  those  higher  verities  of 
Christian  truth  which  would  have  been  incomprehen- 
sible to  them  before.  Yet  this  higher  and  deeper  teach- 
ing was  not  made  any  secret,  for  it  was  to  be  found  in 
substance  in  the  homilies  published  by  the  great  doctors 
of  the  Church. 

The  form  of  the  religious  discourse  was  in  harmony 

*  "  Certe  fidem  Sanctis  vocibus  pascimus,  spem  erigimus,  fiduciam  figimus, 
disciplinam  densamus  prgeceptorum  nihilominus  inculcationibus."  Ter- 
tullian, "  Apol."  93. 

t  Aia  Toiv  ^{j/y/jtrewv  TrpoTptTrovT^g  fiev  tTii  r/}v  dg  rbv  Qtov  tvc't^nav. 
Origen,  "  Contra  Cels."  iii.  57. 


3l6  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

with  its  design.  As  it  was  directed  primarily  to  the 
conscience,  and  intended  to  stimulate  spiritual  life  in 
a  persecuted  Church,  which  was  like  an  army  waiting 
on  the  eve  of  battle  for  the  inspiring  charge  of  the 
commander,  so  the  preaching  in  the  primitive  Church 
gave  no  scope  for  lengthened  displays  of  oratory.  "Let 
us  leave  for  the  harangues  of  the  rostrum,  the  facile 
eloquence  which  glories  in  the  multitude  of  words," 
says  Cyprian.  "  When  we  have  to  speak  of  our  God 
and  Saviour,  we  will  use  an  unadorned  sincerity  of 
speech.  Faith  is  not  strengthened  by  displays  of 
oratory,  but  by  the  truth  itself.  We  should  aim  not 
to  make  long  dissertations  which  may  charm  a  popular 
audience  by  the  flowers  of  rhetoric,  but  to  find  weighty 
words  which,  presenting  the  truth  in  its  naked  sim- 
plicity, are  such  as  become  the  gospel  of  Christ.  Let 
us  seek  to  reach  the  heart  more  than  the  mind."^ 

The  rules  which  St.  Augustine  subsequently  laid 
down  for  the  preaching  of  his  day  only  expressed  in 
the  form  of  precepts  that  which  had  been  the  ancient 
practice  of  the  Church,  and  we  find  in  them  a  faithful 
representation  of  what  preaching  was  in  the  third 
century.  "  The  interpreter  of  holy  Scripture,"  he 
says,  "  the  defender  of  the  true  faith,  and  hence  the 
opponent  of  error,  should  teach  men  how  they  may  do 
good  and  avoid  evil."  His  teaching  should  have  for 
its  aim  to  reclaim  the  wandering,  to  arouse  the  negli- 
gent, and  to  teach  the  ignorant  both  what  they  should 
do  and  eschew.  If  his  hearers  need  to  be  instructed, 
let  him   proceed  by  consecutive  narration  thoroughly 

*  "  Accipe   non   diserta,    sed   fottia.     Accipe   quod   sentitur   antequam 
discitur."     Cyprian,  "Addonat.  "2. 


PREACHING.  317 

to  explain  things.  If  there  are  doubters  who  need  to 
be  brought  back  to  the  faith,  let  him  bring  the  force  of 
argument  to  bear  on  the  subject.  When  the  hearers 
need  more  to  be  warned  than  to  be  instructed,  when 
they  require  to  be  urged  not  to  show  themselves  negli- 
gent in  the  practice  of  that  which  they  already  know, 
then  the  appeal  should  be  made  with  redoubled  energy. 
In  such  a  case  the  preacher  must  use  prayers,  reproofs, 
threatenings,  objurgations  ;  in  a  word,  every  influence 
which  is  capable  of  moving  the  heart. "'^ 

We  see  then  that  it  is  the  ruling  principle  of  the 
homiletics  of  the  early  Church  that  the  preacher  should 
always  keep  before  him  the  greatness  of  the  spiritual 
result  to  be  obtained.  The  precept  of  the  poet  is 
instinctively  carried  out :  Festinat  ad  eventum.  Hence 
the  entire  absence  at  this  period  of  that  empty  and 
pompous  rhetoric  which  was  the  curse  of  the  age  of 
decadence,  when  fine  speakers,  as  Apuleius  declared, 
took  the  place  of  rope-dancers,  amusing  an  effeminate 
people  with  tricks  of  language  as  void  of  serious  pur- 
pose as  the  feats  of  acrobats.  The  preaching  of  this 
primitive  period  was  no  less  remote  from  the  ponderous 
ratiocinations  of  the  schoolmen,  that  pedantry  of  logic 
in  which  sophistry  delighted,  and  which  is  to  philosophy 
what  rhetoric  is  to  eloquence.  To  trifle  away  hours 
over  these  spiritual  gymnastics  was  to  lose  souls. 
Christian  preaching  was  no  less  superior  to  the  forensic 
eloquence  of  antiquity,  always  bitter  and  vindictive. 
It  was  not,  however,  wanting  in  passion,  though  it 
was  raised  above  the  petty  animosities  of  men,  for 
its  fervour   might   well    be   fed   by  the   remembrance 

*  Augustine,  "  De  doctrina  Christian."  iv.  4. 


3l8  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

of  the  glorious  cause  it  had  to  plead,  not  before  a 
human  tribunal  of  fallible  and  venal  judges,  but  before 
that  supreme  tribunal  which  Tertullian  describes  at  the 
end  of  one  of  his  most  eloquent  treatises,  and  on  which 
he  shows  us  the  Judge  of  all  the  earth  ready  to  deliver 
His  final  sentence.  The  speaker  has  to  plead  with 
immortal  souls  to  escape  while  yet  there  is  time  this 
awful  condemnation.  Such  a  charge  leaves  no  scope 
for  florid  speech  ;  it  demands  the  full  fervour  of  the 
soul  directed  towards  the  end  to  be  attained. 

The  discourses  of  the  second  and  third  centuries  may 
be  divided  into  three  classes  :  first,  the  homilies  pro- 
perly so  called ;  second,  the  apologetic  discourses 
addressed  to  unbelievers,  and  intended  as  an  introduc- 
tion to  catechetical  teaching;  and  third,  the  paneg3Tics 
of  the  saints  and  martyrs  delivered  on  the  anniversaries 
of  their  suffering.  The  homily  preserved  the  primitive 
simplicity  more  strictly  than  the  two  other  classes 
of  address.  The  great  Apologies  which  have  come 
down  to  us  are  far  more  ornate  than  the  apologetic 
discourses  delivered  before  a  Christian  audience  :  they 
are  elaborated  into  books.  They  give  us  some  idea, 
however,  of  what  must  have  been  the  living  teaching 
of  the  apologists  when  they  addressed  Pagans  well 
disposed  to  the  new  doctrine.  They  are  often  very 
comprehensive  and  beautiful  in  form  without  losing 
their  simplicity.  I  would  cite  as  an  example  the 
conclusion  of  the  "  Philosophoumena "  of  St.  Hip- 
polytus.  When  addressing  himself  to  his  contem- 
poraries of  every  nation,  he  urges  them  to  abandon 
the  idle  sophisms  and  fallacious  promises  of  the 
heretics,  and  to  yield  to   the  simple   suasion  of  calm, 


PREACHING.  3ry 

uncoloured  truth.  The  panegyrics  of  the  martyrs,  as 
we  gather  from  the  fervid  treatises  of  TertulHan  and 
Cyprian,  rise  to  an  oratorical  tone,  not  through  any 
Hterary  affectation,  but  through  the  almost  fanatic 
enthusiasm  aroused  by  the  confessors. 

We  have  an  admirable  example  of  panegyric  in 
Origen's  eulogium  of  his  disciple,  Gregory  Thaumatur- 
gus.  Nothing  could  be  more  sincere  than  his  admira- 
tion, and  yet  he  does  not  escape  the  fatal  weakness 
of  this  style  of  writing  to  which  simplicity  seems 
impossible.  Let  us  understand  clearh',  moreover, 
what  is  the  simplicity  of  the  homily.  It  consists 
mainly  in  the  absence  of  any  attempt  whatever  at  oratory, 
but  it  does  not  exclude  that  intellectual  subtlety  which 
was  natural  to  the  Greek  mind,  especially  at  Alexandria. 
Origen  declares  with  the  utmost  sincerity  that  he  has 
in  view  nothing  but  the  edification  of  his  hearers.  He 
does  not  conform  to  any  rules  as  to  exordium  or  perora- 
tion. His  discourse,  which  immediately  follows  the  read- 
ing of  the  text,  is  broken  off  abruptly  when  the  time  for 
preaching  is  passed,  and  he  resumes  his  subject  the  next 
day  exactly  at  the  point  where  he  left  it.  Sometimes  he 
would  give  two  homilies  in  succession,  or  would  stop 
suddenly  in  the  midst  of  an  argument  to  ask  the  prayers 
of  his  hearers.'''  He  enjoins  them  not  to  be  led  by  him 
when  he  speaks  not  in  accordance  with  the  gospel. 
But  this  simplicity  of  aim  does  not  prevent  his  making 
unhesitating  use  of  the  allegorical  method,  seeking 
three  meanings  for  each  text,  and  giving  fanciful  inter- 

*  "Hie  scripturoe  locus  difificillimus  est  ad  explanandum,  sed  si  ora- 
tionibus  vestris  Ueum  patiem  Verbi  deprecemini,  ut  nos  illuminare  dii;^- 
netur,  ipso  donante  poterit  explanari."  Origen,  "  In  Levitic."  Homil. 
xii.  4. 


320  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

pretations,  often  containing  the  elements  of  sublime 
poetry,  as  in  his  exposition  of  the  Song  of  Songs,  in 
which  he  sees  the  symbol  of  the  espousal  of  the  soul  to 
the  Word.  As  soon  as  he  comes  to  the  spiritual  appli- 
cation of  the  text,  he  is  again  simple  and  impressive. 
We  feel  that  he  was  supremely  desirous  to  make  his 
words  the  echo  of  his  life,  and  that  it  was  to  this  culti- 
vation of  piety  he  attached  the  chief  importance.  This 
is  the  true  eloquence  of  the  saints.  The  Latin  preach- 
ing must  have  been  from  the  first  more  simple  in 
thought  and  more  brilliant  in  form,  if  we  can  judge  by 
the  Christian  literature  of  both  languages  that  has  come 
down  to  us.  In  spite  of  his  protestations,  Cyprian 
carries  some  vestiges  of  the  eloquence  of  the  pretorium 
into  the  pulpit  of  the  church,  as  Tertullian  had  used 
in  the  same  position  the  eloquence  of  the  tribune,  lift- 
ing his  hand  against  all  abuses  and  usurpations.  The 
spoken  discourses  of  the  fiery  African  were  doubtless, 
like  his  writings,  lacking  in  taste  and  clearness ;  but 
they  would  be  sure  to  exhibit  the  peculiar  brightness 
and  force  of  his  style,  and  to  abound  in  those  striking 
antitheses  in  which  he  set  forth  the  contest  of  two 
worlds  for  the  soul  of  man.  Heresy  also  had  its 
preachers.  The  Clementine  Homilies  are  not  wanting 
in  facile  eloquence,  but  the}^  exhibit  neither  clearness  of 
doctrine  nor  force  of  language.  At  the  close  of  the 
third  century  preaching  begins  to  be  considerably 
modified.  If  bishops  like  Ambrose  and  Chrysostom 
sustaii  ed  in  the  following  age  its  vigour  and  beauty, 
while  enriching  it  by  a  varied  and  brilliant  culture,  court 
bishops  like  Eusebius  adopted  a  redundant  rhetoric, 
and  often  fell  into  the  platitude  of  servile  panegyrics. 


AGAFAL — MARRIAGE    AND    FUNERAL    RITES.         32I 

§  4, — Agapce — Marriage  and  Funeral  Rites, 

We  need  not  speak  again  of  the  two  sacraments  of 
the  Church — Baptism  and  the  Lord's  Supper — as  we 
have  aheady  dwelt  on  them  at  length.  There  was  no 
trace  at  this  period  of  any  other  sacrament  in  the  true 
sense  of  the  word.  Neither  public  confession  nor  con- 
secration to  the  various  offices  in  the  Church  assumes 
this  character. 

We  have  seen  that  the  Agape  was  separated  from  the 
Lord's  Supper  from  the  time  when  Pliny  the  Younger 
thought  it  necessary  to  bring  the  severe  laws  of  the 
Empire  to  bear  on  these  Christian  societies.  A  dis- 
tinction must  be  observed  between  the  two  classes  of 
Agapse  :  the  one  were  celebrated  in  Christian  homes, 
the  other  were  simply  a  part  of  the  funeral  observances 
in  the  catacombs  on  the  occasion  of  burials.  The 
former  had  preserved  the  character  of  worship.  The 
Scriptures  were  read  and  the  praises  of  God  sung.* 
The  abuses  already  pointed  out  in  the  apostolic  age  in 
connection  with  these  feasts  were  aggravated.  Thus 
the  rich  sometimes  made  an  insolent  display  which  hu- 
miliated the  poor.t  But  the  institution  retained  its 
primitive  beauty,  and  was  still  regarded  as  the  festi- 
val of  charity  wherever  the  spirit  of  love  prevailed. 
The  religious  character  of  the  Agape  is  brought  out 
very  beautifully  in  the  "  Constitutions  of  the  Egyptian 
Church." 

The  presence  of  a  bishop  or  elder,  or  failing  either  of 
these,  that  of  a  deacon,  is  regarded  as  necessary,  in  order 

*  Tertullian,  "Apol."39.  ''Sonet  psalmos  convivium  sobrium."  Cyprian, 
*'  Ad  donat,"  16.  "  f  Clement  of  Alexandria,  "Psedag."  ii.  i,  4. 


323  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

that  the  benediction  of  the  representatives  of  the  Church 
may  solemnly  consecrate  the  brotherly  repast.  Each 
guest,  before  drinking  the  cup  placed  before  him,  is  to 
lift  it  towards  heaven  in  token  of  thanksgiving,  and  is 
to  make  mention  in  prayer  of  the  name  of  the  brother 
who  has  bidden  him  to  his  table.  He  is  to  remember 
that  he  is  the  salt  of  the  earth,  and  that  he  must  not, 
by  forgetting  the  rules  of  most  scrupulous  sobriet}-, 
grieve  his  host,  who  has  been  desirous  of  gathering 
together  a  holy  assembly.  This  feast  of  love  is  to  be 
taken  in  gentleness,  without  disputing,  and  in  silence, 
unless  the  bishop  addresses  some  questions  to  his 
brethren.  The  catechumens  are  allowed  to  share  in  it.* 
If  the  Agape  is  conducted  throughout  in  the  spirit  of 
Christian  love  and  thankfulness,  it  is  in  itself  a  veritable 
Eucharist. t 

Sometimes  the  deaconess-widows  are  invited  to  the 
Agape,  but  on  two  conditions  only;  first,  that  the  feast 
be  not  prolonged  after  sunset ;  and,  second,  that  the 
elders  connected  with  their  Church  accompany  them; 
otherwise  they  are  to  receive  the  elements  at  home.;|: 

The  Agapai  in  the  catacombs  were  intended  to  take 
the  place  of  those  feasts  which  played  so  important  a 
part  in  the  habitual  rites  of  the  funeral  companies, 
the  usages  of  which  were  adopted  as  far  as  possible  by 
the  Church,  in  order  that  she  might  share  in  the 
exceptional  immunities  which  they  enjoyed.  Recent 
excavations  in  the  catacombs  of  Domitilla  have  dis- 
closed the  hall  of  the  Agape  arranged  for  the  funeral 
repast.     These  funeral  ceremonies,  which  must  not  be 

*  "Const   Egypt."  ii.  48-50. 
i'EKaaroQ  de  lodikrio  i-v  tvx(tpiOTiq..     Ibid.  51.  \  Ibid.  52. 


AGAP^ — MARRIAGE   AND    FUNERAL    RITES.         323 

confounded  with  those  on  the  anniversaries  of  the  dead, 
were  very  complicated,  if  we  may  judge  by  the  consti- 
tution of  the  Church  of  Alexandria.  It  was  not  con- 
sidered enough  to  convey  the  sacred  remains  with 
singing  and  prayer  to  the  place  of  burial.  Another 
service  was  held  three  days  after  the  interment,  in 
memory  of  the  glorious  third  day  on  which  the  stone 
was  rolled  away  from  the  sepulchre.  The  same  rites 
were  repeated  seven  days  after  the  death,  and  again  a 
month  later,  in  imitation  of  the  mourning  for  Moses.* 

We  have  no  exact  details  of  the  religious  ceremonial 
at  the  marriages  of  this  period.  It  is  certain  that  this 
rite,  so  fully  in  harmony  with  the  spirit  of  Christianity, 
was  observed  from  the  third  century.  Christian  mar- 
riage, according  to  Tertullian,  after  having  been  pub- 
lished by  the  bishop,  was  celebrated  in  the  presence 
of  the  Church.  The  bride  and  bridegroom  brought  a 
special  offering,  and  their  union  was  then  sealed  by 
their  partaking  together  of  the  eucharistic  feast.  Their 
marriage,  thus  ratified,  received  the  Divine  sanction. t 

*  "  Const.  Apost."  viii.  42. 

t  *•  Unde  suHiciamus  ad  enanandam  felicitatem  ejus  matrimonii,  quod 
ecclesia  conciliat  et  confirmat  oblatio,  et  obsignatum  benedictis  angeli 
reauntiant,  pater  rate  habet!"  Tertullian,  "Ad  uxor."  ii.  9.  "Penes  nos 
occultas  quoque  conjunctiones,  id  est  non  prius  apud  Ecclesiam  proiessse, 
juxta  moechiam  judicari  periclitantur. "     Ibid.  *'  De  pudic."  4. 


22 


324  ^^^   EARLY   CHRISTIAN    CHURCH, 


CHAPTER  VI. 

CHRISTIAN    WORSHIP    IN    THE    CHURCH    OF    ALEXANDRIA 
IN    THE   THIRD    CENTURY.''' 

Having   endeavoi>red,    by   an  attentive    study   of   the 
documents  at  our  command,  to  determine  the  character 

*  We  have  two  principal  authorities  for  this  description  of  worship  in  the 
third  century. 

1.  Chap.  Ivii.  of  the  second  book  of  the  "Apostolical  Constitutions." 

2.  The  liturgy,  called  St.  Mark's,  as  we  find  it  in  the  Ethiopian  edition, 
published  and  translated  into  Latin  by  Ludolf.  It  is  easy  to  show  that 
these  two  documents  belong  in  substance  to  a  period  prior  to  the  peace  of 
the  Chvuxh.  We  apply  to  the  fragment  of  the  second  book  of  the  ' '  Apos- 
tolical  Constitutions,"  which  we  use  as  an  authority,  the  same  remarks  we 
have  made  in  reference  to  the  entire  collection,  the  existence  of  which 
before  the  Council  of  Nicaea  is  demonstrated  by  its  essential  features.  The 
description  which  we  have  given  of  the  house  of  prayer  would  not  apply 
to  the  basilicas  of  the  fourth  century.  The  general  arrangement  of  the 
worship  is  in  complete  harmony  with  the  preceding  period,  though  the  ad- 
ditions are  numerous.  The  part  of  Book  viii.  of  the  "Constitutions" 
treating  of  the  same  subject  (c.  5-16),  though  of  later  date  as  a  whole,  con- 
tains clear  allusions  to  a  time  of  persecution  {vTrip  tmv  ^twKi)VTt»v  fiiiing. 
"Const.  Apost."  viii.  10).  The  liturgy  of  Mark,  especially  in  its  Ethiopian 
form,  bears  traces  of  the  highest  anticjuity.  The  first  Greek  edition  is  of 
a  somewhat  later  date.  We  find  in  the  liturgy  of  Mark  unquestionable 
allusions  to  the  period  of  persecution,  Tovg  tv  (pvXoKalg  7)  ev  fierctWoic,  ij 
StKaiQ.  "Lit.  Marc."  Bunsen,  "Antenic?ena,"  iii.  p.  109.  A  more  signifi- 
cant proof  of  the  age  of  this  document  is  the  literal  reprodliction  of  one  of 
the  prayers  contained  in  it,  in  a  homily  of  Origen,  who  quotes  it  as  actually 
forming  part  of  the  public  worship.  noWaicic  fv  raig  evxaig  XayofitV  Get 
TravTOKparop,  TrjV  fifpi^a  rjfxm'  fitrd  ruiv  7rpo<priTMV  Sog'  rijv  n^pida  tjfiuiv 
t'l/jlv  fXiTo.  Tuip  cnrotrToXwv  tov  xp^^t^^^  ^ov.  Origen,  "In  Jerem."  Homil. 
16,  14.  This  prayer  appears  substantially  in  this  document,  with  some 
modifications  in  the  form,  which  ai-e  explained  by  the  fact  that  at  that  time 
no  fixed  formularies  were  in  use.  It  is  thus  epitomised.  Aug  ijfiiv  fjepiSa  Kal 
KXijpov  txtiv  fierd  ttcivtwv  rutv  dyiiov  aov.  Bunsen,  "  Antenicsena,"  p.  113. 
The  reader  will  further  observe,  in  the  liturgy  of  Mark,  direct  allusions  to 


WORSHIP   IN    THE   CHURCH    ©F   ALEXANDRIA.       325 

of  each  of  the  principal  acts  of  Christian  worship, 
having  traced  its  development  and  subsequent  trans- 
formations, it  is  important  for  us  to  rise  from  details  to 
a  general  view,  as  we  are  enabled  to  do  by  the  authori- 
ties we  possess.  We  will  take  our  standpoint  in  the 
time  of  Origen,  about  the  year  230,  when  worship  still 
preserved  its  essential  character,  though  it  had  received 
important  additions  and  developments.  Let  us  place 
ourselves,  in  imagination,  in  the  great  metropolis  of 
Oriental  Christianity,  which  already  numbers  its  con- 
verts by  thousands. 

The  house  of  prayer,  probably  situated  in  a  remote 
quarter  of  the  town,  as  was  common  in  those  times  of 
persecution,  is  an  unpretending  building.  It  is,  how- 
ever, sufficiently  large  to  contain  the  catechumens  and 
the  faithful.  In  the  vestibule  is  the  throng  of  those 
who  are  not  allowed  to  cross  the  threshold :  here  a 
cistern,  in  which  the  necessary  ablutions  may  be  per- 
formed, has  been  placed.  The  edifice  has  no  columns 
or  chapters,  nothing  resembling  a  temple  of  the  ancient 
type  :  had  it  been  otherwise,  Origen  would  not  have 
spoken  as  he  did  of  the  absence  of  any  sanctuary  among 
the  Christians.  Let  us  notice  the  plan  of  the  building, 
which   is  admirabl}^  adapted    to   the    requirements   of 

local  events,  such  as  the  overflowing  of  the  Nile.  HoTctfua  vcara  avayayt 
tTTi  TO  Iciuv  i-ihpop  nvTUJv.     Bunsen,  "  Antenicsena,"  p.  iii. 

As  we  have  shown,  the  public  prayers  in  the  third  century  had  not  yet 
assumed  a  strictly  liturgical  character:  great  scope  was  left  for  spontaneous 
expression,  although  the  general  plan  and  the  substance  of  the  teaching  were 
always  determined  by  rule.  It  is  to  this  fixed  portion  of  the  service  then 
that  we  must  direct  our  attention,  using  full  liberty  of  criticism  as  to  the 
rest,  and  rejecting  as  intei-polations  all  that  is  not  in  accordance  with  the 
doctrinal  and  ecclesiastical  type  of  the  age,  as  that  is  handed  down  to  us  by 
the  Fathers  of  the  third  century.  With  these  reservations,  we  believe  the 
document  before  us  will  be  found  to  furnish  a  graphic  and  faithful  repre- 
sentation of  Christian  worship  in  the  third  centuiy. 


326  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

worship.  It  is  divided  into  two  distinct  parts,  to  main- 
tain the  separation  between  the  men  and  women.  A 
space  is  reserved  at  the  end  of  the  building  for  the 
pulpit  of  the  bishop  and  the  seats  of  the  elders,  who 
surround  him.  In  front  of  the  cathedra  of  the  bishop 
stands  the  communion  table  :  near  it  is  another  table, 
intended  for  the  offerings  of  the  Church.  In  the  centre 
of  the  building  are  placed  two  ambones  or  desks,  which 
are  to  serve  for  the  reading  of  the  Scriptures,  that  for  the 
Gospel  being  more  elevated  than  that  for  the  Epistles. 
The  walls  are  bare,  unadorned  by  either  picture  or 
sculpture  :  a  few  torches  throw  a  dim  light  over  the 
whole. 

At  the  hour  of  worship,  which  is  the  first  hour  of 
the  day,  that  the  soul  may  present  itself  to  God  before 
being  drawn  into  the  whirl  of  outward  life,  the  cate- 
chumens are  the  first  to  arrive.  Instruction  is  given 
them,  and  then  those  who  have  not  been  approved  as 
hearers  retire  after  fervent  prayer  offered  to  God  on 
their  behalf.  The  penitents  follow  them,  and  are  prayed 
for  in  like  manner.  The  Christian  assembly  gathers 
in  silence  :  the  deacons  place  the  men  in  one  part  of 
the  building,  while  the  deaconesses  perform  the  same 
office  for  the  women.  The  deacons  are  responsible 
for  the  good  order  of  the  service  and  for  the  prevention 
of  any  interruption  of  the  sacred  hour  of  worship."^' 

After  the  opening  prayer,  the  reader  ascends  the 
desk.  The  assembly  stands,  and,  in  the  attitude  of 
reverent  attention,  listens  to  the  portions  of  Scripture 
appointed  by  the  bishop  to  be  read  either  from  the  Old 
Testament  or  the  Gospels.     A  psalm  is  sung  between 

*  'O  Su'iKoi'og  eTTKTKOTreiTUi  ruv  Xaov.      "  Const.  Apost. "  ii.  57* 


WORSHIP    IN    THE    CHURCH    OF   ALEXANDRIA.        327 

the  two  readings,  and  after  the  second  reading  another 
psalm  is  read,  the  congregation  chanting  the  final 
words.*  In  order  to  give  some  idea  of  what  the 
preaching  in  the  ancient  Church  was,  we  shall  repro- 
duce here  in  substance  a  homily  of  Origen,  which  has 
been  preserved  to  us  in  its  original  form. 

The  portion  read  has  been  the  narrative  of  the  sac- 
rifice of  Isaac.  Origen  takes  the  place  of  the  reader 
in  the  desk,  for  being  still  a  layman,  he  has  not  the 
right  to  enter  the  cathedra  of  the  bishop.  He  com- 
ments on  the  sacred  narrative  according  to  his  custom, 
rather  in  a  style  of  instructive  exegesis  than  of  orato- 
rical effort. 

"  Give  me  your  attention,"  he  says,  "  you  who  draw 
near  to  God,  and  believe  you  are  among  His  faithful 
ones.  Consider  attentively,  by  the  narrative  to  which 
you  have  just  listened, t  how  the  faith  of  believers  is 
tried.  *  And  it  came  to  pass  that  God  did  tempt 
Abraham,  and  said  unto  him,  Abraham,  and  he  said, 
Behold,  here  I  am.'  Meditate  on  each  of  these  words, 
for  it  is  by  delving  into  each  detail  that  we  find  the 
hidden  treasure,  and  it  is  sometimes  when  we  are  not 
expecting  it  that  we  come  upon  the  most  precious 
things.  The  patriarch  was  first  called  Abram,  and  yet 
we  never  find  God  giving  him  this  name.  This  is  be- 
cause God  would  not  call  him  by  a  perishable  name, 
but  by  the  name  Himself  had  chosen  for  him,  and  this 
He  does  twice.  When  Abraham  had  replied,  '  Here 
I  am,'  God  said  unto  him,  '  Take  now  thy  son,  thine 
only  son  Isaac,  whom  thou  lovest,  and  offer  him  for  a 

*  Harnack,  work  quoted,  p.  472. 

t  "  Ex  his  qux  reciiata  sunt."  Or  gen,  "  In  Genes."  liomil.  8,  I.  vol.  ii. 
p.  So. 


328  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

burnt-offering  unto  me.'  It  is  as  though  God  would 
inflame  Abraham's  heart  with  love  for  his  son,  who 
is  not  simply,  like  Ishmael,  his  son  according  to  the 
flesh,  but  the  very  subject  of  the  promise.  It  is  this 
son,  on  whom  depend  such  glorious  prophecies,  whom 
he  is  commanded  to  offer  up. 

"  What  sayest  thou  to  this,  Abraham  ?  What 
thoughts  arise  in  thy  heart  ?  What  hast  thou  to  say 
to  the  commandment  which  tries  thee  ?  Dost  thou 
not  say  that  if  thou  art  to  offer  up  this  child  of  the 
promise,  thou  canst  no  more  hope  for  its  fulfilrnent  ? 
Or,  rather,  dost  thou  not  think  that  as  He  who  made 
it  cannot  lie,  so  the  promise  must  stand  fast  still. 
St.  Paul  has  revealed  to  us  what  was  the  thought  of 
Abraham,  when  he  says  that  the  patriarch  believed 
firmly  that  God  could  raise  his  son  even  from  the 
dead.  How  then  can  they  be  the  children  of  Abraham 
who  do  not  believe  in  the  resurrection  already  realised 
in  Jesus  Christ,  when  their  brother  in  the  faith  believed 
before  the  event,  that  his  son  might  rise  again  ?  " 

The  preacher  then  shows  how  God,  in  reminding  the 
patriarch  that  he  asks  of  him  his  well-beloved  son, 
turns  the  sword  as  it  were  in  upon  his  own  bleeding 
heart,  that  the  sacrifice  being  the  more  agonising  might 
be  the  more  real.  It  is  for  the  same  reason  that  the 
terrible  commandment  is  given  at  the  foot  of  the  moun- 
tain, that  Abraham  might  be  sacrificing  himself,  as  it 
were,  at  every  step  of  the  long  journey.  The  high 
place  on  which  he  is  commanded  to  oifer  up  Isaac 
represents  those  sacred  heights  to  which  the  soul  rises 
when   it  surrenders   all   that   is   earthly.*     "  Abraham 

*  "  lit  fide  electus  tenena  derelinquat  et  ad  siiperna  conscendat."  Origen, 
"In  Genes."  Homil.  3, 


WORSHIP    IN    THE   CHURCH    OF   ALEXANDRIA.        329 

rose  up  early  in  the  morning  and  went."  This  is  in 
token  of  the  light  which  shone  in  his  soul.  The  three 
days  of  the  journey,  which  prefigure  the  burial  of  the 
Lord  Jesus  Christ,  are  the  passion  of  his  faith. 

"  During  these  three  days  his  bowels  are  torn,  as 
during  the  long  hours  he  fixes  his  eyes  upon  his  son, 
when  he  breaks  bread  with  him,  or  when  he  covers  him 
with  kisses  during  the  night,  while  Isaac  sleeps  in  his 
bosom.* 

"  And  Abraham  lifted  up  his  eyes,  and  saw  the  place 
afar  off.  And  Abraham  said  unto  his  young  men,  *  Abide 
ye  here  with  the  ass,  and  I  and  the  lad  will  go  yonder 
and  worship,  and  come  again  to  you.'  Tell  me,  Abra- 
ham, art  thou  speaking  truth  to  thy  servants  ?  If  thou 
speakest  truth,  thou  wilt  not  then  offer  up  thy  son  ?  If 
thou  speakest  not  truth,  is  it  worthy  of  a  patriarch  to 
lie?  'What  meanest  thou  by  these  words?  I  lie  not,' 
thou  mayest  say,  'for  I  will  offer  up  my  son  as  a  burnt- 
offering,  and  yet  I  will  come  again  with  him,  for  I  be- 
lieve that  God  is  able  to  raise  him  from  the  dead.' 

"  And  Abraham  took  the  wood  of  the  burnt-offering 
and  laid  it  upon  Isaac  his  son.  This  wood  which 
Isaac  bears  typifies  the  cross  which  was  laid  upon  Jesus, 
for  the  office  of  the  priest  is  to  bear  the  wood  of  the 
sacrifice.     Thus  was  he  at  once  victim  and  priest. t.  .  . 

"Abraham  rears  the  altar,  lays  the  wood  on  it,  takes 
his  son,  and  prepares  to  sfey  him. 

"There  are  many  fathers  among  those  who  are  list- 
ening to  me.     May  this  sacred  story  give  some  of  you 

*  "  Tot  noctibus  quum  puer  penderet  in  amplexibus  patris,  cubitaret  in 
gremio."     Origen,  "  In  Genes."  Homil.  4. 

t  "  Fit  ergo  ipse  hostia  et  sacerdos."     Ibid.  6. 


S30  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

such  constancy  and  courage  of  soul,  that  when  your  son 
shall  be  taken  from  you  by  natural  death,  even  though 
he  be  your  only  and  well-beloved  child,  you  may  follow 
the  example  of  Abraham.  God  does  not  ask  of  thee  so 
heroic  an  act  as  to  slay  thy  son  and  offer  him  for  a 
burnt-offering.  Be  thou  only  strong  in  spirit,  and  in  the 
quietness  of  faith  offer  thy  son  to  God.  Present  his 
soul  as  a  sacrifice.  "  Offer  him  not  in  the  valley  of 
tears,  but  on  the  glorious  heights  of  faith." 

After  some  remarks  on  the  angel  who  appeared  to 
the  patriarch,  and  who  illustrates  the  beneficent  action 
of  those  blessed  spirits  to  whom  we  are  confided  in  our 
tender  childhood,  the  preacher  applies  to  the  persecuted 
Christians  the  words  addressed  to  Abraham,  "  Now  I 
know  that  thou  fearest'God." 

*'  If  I  have  behaved  m3^self  valiantly  in  the  conflict, 
if  I  have  made  a  courageous  confession,  if  I  have  borne 
all  that  is  laid  upon  me,  then  the  angel  may  say  to  me, 
'  Now  I  know  that  thou  fearest  God.'  Why  was  this 
word  spoken  to  Abraham  ?  Because  he  spared  not  his 
son.  Let  us  remember  what  the  apostle  says,  namely, 
that  God  spared  not  His  own  son.  Consider  how  God 
enters  into  a  glorious  competition  of  generosity  with 
men.  Abraham  offered  to  God  his  only  son,  and  that 
son  was  restored  to  him,  while  God  has  given  up  His 
immortal  son  to  death  for  us  all.  t  Which  of  you  who 
ta'^ten  to  me  will  hear,  in  his  turn,  this  word  of  the 
wer^l^   ''Now   I  know  that  thou  fearest   God,    seeing 

place  ^i(;ig  f^xus  Isetus  offer  fiiium  Deo.  Esto  sacerdos  animae  filii  tui." 
represe'  ^^  Genes."  Homil.  7. 

^  .e  Deum  magnifica  cum  hominibus  libeialitate  certantem.  Abraham 
when    itlium  non  moriturum  obtulit  Deo  ;   Deus  immortalem  fiiium  pro 

*  "lit  fid^^^^^  morti."    Ibid.  8. 
"In  Genes."  a 


WORSHIP    IN    THE    CHURCH    OF   ALEXANDRIA.        331 

that  thou  hast  not  withheld  son  or  daughter,  money, 
honour,  ambition,  gain,  but  hast  despised  all,  hast 
counted  all  but  dust  that  thou  mightest  win  Christ :  thou 
hast  sold  all,  and  given  all  to  the  poor,  to  follow  the 
Word  of  God  "  ? 

After  some  allegorical  explanations,  the  homily  closes 
thus.  "  See  what  it  is  to  lose  anything  for  God :  it  is  in 
reality  to  find  that  which  has  been  forsaken  for  His 
sake  multiplied  a  hundredfold.  The  gospel  promises 
yet  more  :  it  promises,  beyond  all  this,  eternal  life  in 
Jesus  Christ  our  Lord,  to  whom  be  glory  and  dominion, 
world  without  end." 

After  the  preaching,  those  who  ,are  hearers  only, 
withdraw,  and  the  first  part  of  the  religious  service 
closes  with  the  prayer  of  the  assembled  congregation, 
which  prostrates  itself  before  God,  except  on  the  Sunday 
and  during  the  Easter  festival,  when  it  remains  stand- 
ing, to  testify  its  faith  in  the  resurrection.  Its  custom 
is  to  turn  towards  the  east.  Its  supplications  first  rise 
to  God  in  deep  silence.  Then  the  silence  is  broken  by 
the  voice  of  the  officiating  minister,  who  directs  the 
secret  prayer  by  calling  to  mind  those  great  objects  of 
supplication  which  should  never  be  forgotten. 

"  Let  us  all  join,"  he  says,  *'  in  prayer  to  God  by 
Jesus  Christ.  Let  us  pray  for  the  peace  of  the  world 
and  for  the  holy  Churches,for  the  universal  and  apostolic 
Church,  and  for  this  holy  community.  Let  us  pray  for 
all  bishops,  and  for  me  your  bishop,  for  the  elders  and 
deacons.  Let  us  pray  for  all  those  who  are  joined 
together  in  marriage,  for  all  women  labouring  of  child. 
Lord  have  mercy  on  them  all !  Let  us  pray  for  all 
those  who  bring  forth   the  fruits  of  charity  and   show 


332  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

mercy  to  the  poor,  and  bring  free-will  offerings  as  the 
first-fruits  of  all  their  goods,  that  they  may  receive 
incorruptible  treasure  in  exchange  for  these  perishable 
things.  Let  us  pray  for  the  confirmation  of  our  brethren 
newly  enlightened.  Let  us  pray  for  the  sick,  that  they 
may  be  healed  and  preserved  to  the  Church.  Let  us 
pray  for  those  who  travel  by  land  or  by  water,  for  all 
who  are  condemned  to  the  mines,  or  who  are  in  bonds 
and  imprisonment  for  the  name  of  the  Lord,  and  for 
those  who  are  doomed  to  long  captivity.  Let  us  pray 
for  our  enemies,  who  hate  us  and  persecute  us  for  the 
name  of  Christ,  that  God  may  turn  their  hearts.  Let 
us  pray  for  all  such  as  have  erred  and  gone  astray. 
Let  us  pray  for  every  Christian  soul.  Save  us,  O  God, 
and  raise  us  up  in  Thy  compassion.  Let  us  arise  and 
commit  ourselves  in  the  fulness  of  prayer  to  our  loving 
God  and  to  His  Christ." 

Sometimes  this  prayer  is  offered  by  the  deacon.  In 
that  case,  the  bishop  rises  when  it  is  finished  and  con- 
cludes the  first  part  of  the  service  by  praying  thus  : — 

"O  Almighty  God,  Thou  who  inhabitest  the  highest 
heaven,  O  hol}^  God,  who  dwellest  in  Thy  saints,  the 
one  Lord  and  King,  who  by  the  gospel  of  Jesus  Christ 
hast  given  us  the  knowledge  of  Thy  glory  and  of  Thy 
name,  behold  Thy  fiock  which  is  before  Thee :  keep  it 
from  ignorance  and  from  every  evil  way,  give  it  to  walk 
in  Thy  fear,  to  believe  in  Thee,  and  to  love  Thee  with 
true  affection.  Hear  Thou  the  prayers  of  Thy  people, 
guard  them  from  evil,  be  Thou  their  leader,  their  keeper, 
their  wall  of  defence.  Save  them  by  Thy  truth,  Thy 
word  is  truth,  and  grant  unto  them  eternal  life.  * 

*  "Const.  Apost."  viii.  9,  10.  Clearly  these  two  prayers  belong  to  the 
first  part  of  the  service,  for  tliey  coirespond  exactly  with  what  Justin  Martyr 


WORSHIP    IN    THE    CHURCH    OF   ALEXANDRIA.        333 

After  this  prayer,  which  evidently  refers  to  the  edifi- 
cation they  might  receive  from  the  preaching  to  which 
they  had  just  Hstened,  the  second  part  of  the  service 
begins.  In  this  not  even  the  catechumens  about  to  be 
baptized  are  allowed  to  share. 

"  Let  the  doors  be  closed,"  we  read  in  the  ''  Apostoli- 
cal Constitutions,"  "  that  no  unbeliever  or  profane  per- 
son may  enter."*  Two  deacons  guard  the  gates,  so  that 
none  but  baptized  Christians  shall  come  in.t 

The  eucharistic  service  is  opened  by  what  may  be 
called  the  offertory.  The  communicants  present  their 
offerings  through  the  medium  of  the  deacons.  These 
offerings  consist  not  only  of  the  bread  and  wine  of  the 
Lord's  Supper,  but  of  the  first-fruits  of  their  fields,  and 
of  the  various  gifts  of  all  nature,  which  are  committed 
to  the  bishop,  as  the  representative  and  recognised  and 
approved  organ  of  the  charities  of  the  Church,  who 
alone  is  capable  of  distributing  to  the  indigent  brethren 
according  to  their  needs.  This  offering  of  gifts  takes 
place  in  perfect  silence  and  in  the  most  orderly  manner. 
Then  follows  the  kiss  of  peace,  given  by  the  men  to  the 
men,  and  by  the  women  to  the  women.  This  act,  so 
beautiful  in  its  significance,  if  it  is  sincere,  is  preceded 
by  an  earnest  word  of  caution,  given  by  the  assisting 

has  told  us  of  the  general  prayer  offered  by  the  whole  assembly.  First,  they 
are  essentially  prayers  of  intercession,  and  differ  in  this  resjject  horn  the 
eucharistic  prayer  presented  before  the  Lord's  Supper  is  celebrated.  Then 
the  deacon  does  not  offer  the  prayer  in  his  own  name,  but  calls  upon  ihe 
congregation  to  pray  itself  :  "0<roi  ttkttoi  K:XtVa»/,(€j^  yovv  —  ^fjjOw/tti'  irarrfc, 
ovvTovMQ  Tov  Qtov  CIO.  Tov  xpitTTOV  uvTOv  T:apaKa\ka(i)}iEv,  "Const.  Apost.  " 
viii.  9. 

*  Sv\aTe(T6ii."Tav   de    ai  Ovpai  fxri  tiq  a.7ri(TTog  datXOoi,   ii  ajxvi]-ot^.     Ibid. 

"•  37-       ,  .     ,       .  .  ,        .  ,         , 

t  Hpoar]Kii  Taq  Qvnaq   vfxujv  i]toi   Trpotrtliopac  ntj  tmcTKOTroj  -npoacpipuv' 
avTOQ  yap  yLVwrJKH  t  i'c  9\i€ofi£vovc.      Ibid,  ii,  27. 


334  THE    EARLY   CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

deacon.  **  See  that  thou  hast  nothing  against  thy 
brother  ;   hypocrisy  be  far  from  us  !  "  '" 

After  the  offertory  and  the  kiss  of  peace,  which  are 
prefatory  to  the  eucharistic  service  properly  so  called, 
the  sacred  mystery  begins. 

The  bishop  takes  his  place  before  the  table  of  the 
Eucharist  and  opens  the  service  w^ith  these  w^ords : — 

^''Bishop. — The  Lord  be  v^ith  you. 

"  Congregation. — And  with  thy  spirit. 

^^  Bishop. — Lift  up  your  hearts. 

*'  Congregation. — We  lift  them  up  unto  the  Lord. 

"  Bishop. — Let  us  give  thanks  unto  our  Lord  God.  It 
is  very  meet,  right,  and  our  bounden  duty  that  we  should 
.r;ive  thanks  unto  Thee,  O  Lord,  Holy  Father,  Almighty, 
Everlasting  God,  and  that  we  should  celebrate  the  Eu- 
charist in  Thy  name.  It  is  meet  that  our  mouth  should 
not  cease  to  glorify  Thee  day  or  night,  that  our  lips  and 
heart  should  keep  no  silence  in  Thy  praise.  O  Thou 
who  hast  made  the  heaven  and  all  that  is  therein,  the 
earth  and  that  which  is  upon  it,  the  sea,  the  rivers,  the 
fountains  of  water,  the  pools  and  all  that  is  in  them  ; 
Thou  who  hast  made  man  in  Thine  own  image  and 
likeness,  and  hadst  placed  him  in  the  bliss  of  paradise  ; 
though  he  has  fallen,  Thou  hast  not  despised  nor  for- 
saken him,  but  Thou  hast  come  to  him,  calling  him 
and  drawing  him  to  Thyself  by  the  law  and  the  prophets, 
and  now  Thou  dost  renew  him  by  this  heavenly  mystery. 
And  Thou  hast  wrought  all  this  work  by  Thy  wisdom, 
which  is  the  true  Light,  by  Thy  only  Son,  our  Lord 
and  God,  Jesus  Christ.  It  is  by  Him  we  bring  this 
sacrifice  of  praise   in   Thy   name,   as  in   the   name   of 

*  Ml?  TiQ  Kara  tivoq,  fir]  ng  iv  inroKpiaei.     "Const.  Apost."  ii.  57. 


WORSHIP    IN    THE    CHURCH    OF   ALEXANDRIA.        335 

Christ  and  cf  the  Holy  Ghost.  We  bring  to  Thee,  O 
Lord,  not  a  sacrifice  of  blood, ^'^  but  this  reasonable 
sacrifice,  which  all  the  nations  offer  to  Thee,  from  the 
rising  of  the  sun  to  the  going  down  of  the  same,  for 
great  is  Thy  name.  In  all  places  and  among  all  people 
they  present  to  Thee  incense,  sacrifice,  and  offering." 

This  eucharistic  character  of  the  Christian  sacrifice, 
which  excludes  all  idea  of  expiation,  since  it  is  stated  in 
the  thanksgiving  prayer  to  be  nothing  else  than  the 
living  and  spiritual  sacrifice  of- the  redeemed  Church, 
is  marked  still  more  emphatically  in  the  following 
words :  "  O  Lord,  we  render  thanks  to  Thee  by  Thy 
well-beloved  Son,  Jesus  Christ,  whom  Thou  hast  sent 
in  the  last  times  to  be  our  Saviour  and  Redeemer, 
the  angel  of  Thy  counsel.  It  is  by  Him,  the  Word  who 
comes  forth  from  Thee,  that  Thou  hast  done  all.  Thou 
didst  send  Him  from  heaven  into  the  womb  of  a  virgin. 
He  was  made  flesh  and  born  of  the  virgin.  He  was 
manifested  to  be  Thy  Son  by  the  Holy  Ghost,  that  He 
might  fulfil  all  Thy  will,  and  by  stretching  out  His 
hands  on  the  cross,  might  bring  a  new  people  unto 
Thee.  He  suffered  to  deliver  the  sufferers  who  believe 
in  Him.  By  Thy  will  He  endured  His  Passion,  that 
He  might  overcome  death,  break  the  bonds  of  Satan, 
trample  him  under  His  feet,  raise  the  saints,  and  show 
forth  the  resurreetion  life."t 

After  this  prayer  the  bread  and  wine  of  the  com- 
munion are  taken  from  the  table  of  offerings  and  placed 
upon  the  eucharistic  table.     At  this  moment  the  Chris- 

*  Upoa(l)spo[.iev  Trjv  \oyiKi)v  kuI  uva'inaKTOv  Xarpeiav  Tavrrjv.  Bunsen 
"  Antenica:na,'-'  iii.  109.  ' 

t  "Gratias  agimus  tibi,  Domine,  per  dilectum  filium  tuum  Jesum  Chris- 
tum quem  in  ultimis  diebus  misisti."     Ibid.  108. 


336  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

tian  heart  overflows  with  thanksgivings.  It  appears 
that  the  supplicatory  prayer,  which  we  have  placed  at 
the  close  of  the  first  service,  was  repeated  at  this  point 
by  the  Church  in  the  time  of  Origen.  This,  at  least,  is 
what  we  infer  from  the  Greek  liturgy  of  Mark,  as  it  is 
called,  which  is  subsequent  to  the  Ethiopian  liturgy. 
If  this  was  the  case,  the  supplicatory  prayer  previous 
to  the  Eucharist  was  probably  much  abridged,  the  ex- 
panded form  being  reserved  for  the  eucharistic  prayer 
offered  by  a  deacon  standing  before  the  communion 
table.  Some  of  the  expressions  thus  given  to  the 
desires  of  the  Christian  heart  are  full  of  a  sublirrie 
and  tender  poetry.  Never  was  trust  in  the  immense 
goodness  of  God  expressed  more  touchingly  than  in 
this  fragment.  ''Beside  Thee  we  know  none.  Thou 
art  our  God,  the  Hope  of  the  desolate,  the  Helper  of 
the  forsaken,  the  Lifter-up  of  the  fallen,  the  Port  of 
the  shipwrecked.  Thou  art  the  Physician  of  souls 
and  of  bodies."* 

The  benefits  of  Providence  in  sustaining  the  physical 
life  are  enumerated  and  described  in  words  which  carry 
us  away  to  the  banks  of  the  Nile,  as  in  the  following 
passage  : — "  Send  the  fertilising  rains  upon  the  thirsty 
lands  ;  renew  the  face  of  the  earth,  that  it  may  flourish 
again  under  the  copious  showers.  Let  the  waters  of 
the  river  rise  so  high,  that  our  fields  may  be  refreshed 
and  made  fruitful.  Bless,  O  God,  and  crown  the  year 
with  the  treasures  of  Thy  bounty  for  the  poor,  the 
widows,  the  orphans,  and  strangers ;  for  the  eyes  of  all 
wait  upon  Thee." 

These  petitions  may  probably  not  always  have  formed 
a   part  of  the   eucharistic  prayer,  and  they  appear  to 

*  Bunsen,  "  Antenicaena,"  iii.  loo. 


WORSHIP    IN    THE    CHURCH    OF   ALEXANDRIA.      337 

belong  more  properly  to  the  former  part  of  the  service ; 
but  it  is  otherwise  with  the  prayers  which  follow,  and 
which  are  commemorative  of  the  Christians  who  had 
gone  before  their  brethren  into  heaven. 

"  May  the  souls  of  those  who  have  fallen  asleep  in 
the  faith  of  Christ  rest  in  Thee.  Remember  Thou  our 
fathers,  the  patriarchs,  prophets,  apostles,  martyrs — 
every  soul  which  has  believed  in  Christ.  We  remember 
them  thus  to-day  that  thou  mayest  give  them  rest  in 
Thy  heavenly  kingdom.*  Give  us  to  have  our  part 
and  our  heritage  with  all  Thy  saints.'* 

The  prayer  for  the  Christians  who  had  brought  their 
offerings  to  the  bishop  is  appropriate  at  the  moment 
when  the  bread  and  wine  had  just  been  laid  on  the 
table  of  offerings.     It  runs  thus  :  — 

"  Receive,  O  God,  in  Thy  holy  heaven  and  upon  the 
spiritual  altar  of  Thy  high  sanctuary,  by  the  hand  of 
Thine  archangel,  the  sacrifices  of  thanksgiving  of  those 
who  desire  to  present  them  to  Thee,  without  regarding 
the  measure  of  their  offerings,  whether  they  be  small  or 
great,  public  or  private,  or  even  if  Thy  servants  have 
nothing  to  bring  Thee  but  their  desire.  Receive  our 
sacrifices  to-day  as  Thou  didst  accept  that  of  Abel  and 
those  of  Abraham  and  of  Zacharias,  as  Thou  didst  re- 
ceive the  alms  of  the  centurion  Cornelius  and  the  two 
mites  of  the  widow ;  and  give  to  Thy  servants  heavenly 
gifts  in  exchange  for  these  which  are  earthly." 

The  prayer  concludes  with  a  comprehensive  doxology, 
inviting  the  whole  creation  to  praise  God.  The  bishop 
says : — 

"  Heaven  and  earth  are  full  of  Thy  glory  by  the 

*  Tag  \l/vxaQ  avcnravaov.     Bunsen,  "Antenicaena,"  p.  1 13. 
23 


33^  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

manifestation  of  Jesus  Christ,  our  Lord,  our  God,  our 
Saviour.  Purify,  O  God,  the  sacrifice  of  our  worship 
by  the  illumination  of  Thy  Spirit." 

Still  standing  before  the  table,  the  bishop  repeats  the 
words  of  the  institution  : — 

'*  When  He  had  taken  the  bread,  Jesus  Christ  gave 
thanks  and  said  :  '  Take,  eat,  this  is  my  body  which  is 
broken  for  you.'  In  the  same  manner  He  took  the  cup, 
saying :  "  This  is  my  blood  which  is  shed  for  you.  This 
do  in  remembrance  of  me.'  " 

The  consecration  prayer  is  then  pronounced. 

''The  Bishop.  —  O  King  of  heaven,  Almighty  God, 
remembering  the  death  and  resurrection  of  Thy  Son 
Jesus  Christ,  we  present  to  Thee  this  bread  and  this 
wine,  which  are  Thine,  and  which  we  owe  to  Thy  bounty. 
We  ask  Thee,  O  God  of  goodness,  who  lovest  man, 
pour  out  Thy  Holy  Spirit  upon  us,  upon  this  bread  and 
this  cup,  the  offering  of  Thy  Church.  Give  holiness  to 
all  who  partake  of  it,  that  they  may  be  filled  with  Thy 
Holy  Spirit  in  confirmation  of  their  faith.  May  they 
praise  and  magnify  Thee  in  Thy  Son  Jesus  Christ,  by 
whom  be  honour  and  glory  to  Thee  in  Thy  holy  Church, 
world  without  end.     Amen. 

"  The  People. — As  it  was  in  the  beginning,  is  now, 
and  shall  be,  world  without  end." 

An  earnest  prayer  follows,  that  the  communicants 
may  worthily  partake  of  the  sacrament  with  purified 
hearts.  This  is  often  concluded  by  the  repetition  of 
the  Lord's  Prayer  by  the  people. 

"  Lord  Lord,"  exclaims  the  bishop,  taking  up  the 
fifth  petition  of  the  Lord's  Prayer,  *'  lead  us  not  into 
temptation,  but  deliver  us  from  evil,  for  in  Thy  bound- 


WORSHIP    IN    THE    CHURCH    OF    ALEXANDRIA.       339 

less  compassion  Thou  knowest  that  our  great  weakness 
renders  victory  impossible  to  us.  With  the  temptation, 
give  Thou  the  way  of  escape  and  the  victory.  O  God 
Almighty,  while  we  receive  this  holy  mystery,  give  us 
strength  that  we  may  not  sin;  bless  us  all  in  Jesus 
Christ,  to  whom,  with  Thyself  and  the  Holy  Spirit,  be 
power  and  glory  for  ever  and  ever.* 

"  The  Deacon.  —Ye  who  stand,  bow  your  heads.  O 
eternal  Lord,  who  knowest  all  secret  things,  Thy  people 
have  bowed  the  head  before  Thee,  and  they  have  broken 
the  hardness  of  their  heart  and  of  their  flesh. t  Look 
down  from  heaven  and  bless  these  our  brethren  and 
sisters.  Incline  Thine  ear  unto  them  and  hear  their 
prayer.  Strengtlien  them  by  the  might  of  Thy  right 
hand,  and  keep  them  from  all  evil.  Guard  Thou  their 
soul  and  body.  Increase  their  faith  and  our  faith  and 
fear,  in  the  name  of  Thy  only  Son,  to  whom,  as  to  Thee 
and  to  the  Holy  Spirit,  be  glory  and  power,  world  with- 
out end.     Amen.'' 

A  people  thus  prostrate  before  God,  presenting  itself 
to  Him  in  the  full  surrender  of  soul  and  spirit  —  this  is 
the  great  and  living  sacrifice  of  the  Church.     It  is  a 

*  We  have  combined  in  this  passage  the  two  versions  of  the  liturgy  of 
Mark.  Bunsen,  "  Antenicaena,"  iii.  pp.  116,  117.  In  both  we  find  the  same 
juxtaposition  of  the  spiritualist  and  sacramentarian  point  of  view,  and  it 
seems  impossible  to  distinguish  clearly  what  are  interpolations.  In  the 
Greek  version,  the  elements  of  the  Eucharist  form  part  of  the  offering  of 
corn  and  wine:  T«  ca  Ik  tG)V  aCJv  cMptuv  TrpweGr^Kafifi'  ivwiriov  aov.  Nothin"- 
can  be  more  correct  than  this  expression,  which  however  is  soon  overladen 
with  glosses,  implying  a  sort  of  magical  transformation  of  the  consecrated 
bread  and  wine,  but  without  saying  anything  definite.  The  Greek  do- 
cument is  also  superior  to  the  Ethiopian,  in  that  it  represents  the  assembly 
as  asking  the  Holy  Spirit  first  for  those  who  are  to  partake,  before  invoking 
it  on  the  elements  themselves:  'E(f  rj/uag  kui  tTri  rovg  ciprovg  tovtovq  kcu  IkI 
rd  TTorrjpia  ravra. 

t  "  Declinaverunt  tibi  capita  sua  populus  tuus  et  tibi  subjecerunt  duritiem 
co:dis  et  carnis. "     P>uiisen,  "  Antenicaena,"  p.  120. 

23* 


340  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

moment  of  the  deepest  solemnity,  and  the  surrender 
thus  made  has  now  only  to  be  sealed  by  the  actual  par- 
taking of  the  sacrament.  The  voice  of  the  bishop 
breaks  the  silence. 

*'  Holy  things  to  the  holy. 

*'  The  People,— OuQ  holy  God  the  Father, 
One  holy  God  the  Son, 
One  holy  God  the  Spirit." 

Mere  words  cannot  suffice  to  express  the  exalted 
feeling  of  the  Church  at  the  moment  of  receiving  the 
pledges  of  redeeming  love.  It  breaks  forth  into  one  of 
the  psalms  of  praise,  Psalm  xxxiv.  Sometimes  the 
Church  also  repeats  that  sublime  psalm  which  expresses 
for  all  time  the  most  ardent  aspirations  of  the  soul  after 
God :    "As  the  hart  panteth  after  the  water  brooks." 

While  the  inspired  hymn  is  still  reverberating,  the 
eucharistic  bread  is  broken  and  the  cup  is  passed  from 
hand  to  hand.     Then  the  closing  prayer  ascends. 

"  O  Lord  God,  the  Father  of  our  Lord  and  Saviour 
Jesus  Christ,  we  give  Thee  thanks  that  we  have  been 
made  partakers  of  Thy  holy  mystery.  Grant  that  it 
may  not  be  to  our  condemnation,  but  to  the  renewing  of 
our  body,  soul,  and  spirit,  by  Jesus  Christ."* 

The  service  closes  with  this  benediction  : — 

^'The  Bishop. — The  Lord  be  with  you  all.  O  eternal 
God,  who  reignest  over  all.  Father  of  Our  Lord  and 
Saviour  Jesus  Christ,  protect  and  help  these  Thy  ser- 
vants. May  Thy  holy  angels  be  their  guard.  Stablish 
them  in  Thy  fear  by  Thine  excellent  majesty.  Purify 
their  minds  that  they  may  think  Thy  thoughts;  give 
them  to  believe  Thy  truth,  to  desire  Thy  will;  grant 
them  Thy  peace  and  pardon  by  Thy  Son. 

*  'Ev-xapKJTOvnw  aoi.     Bunsen,  "  AnteniccTna,"  p.  25. 


WORSHIP   IN    THE    CHURCH    OF   ALEXANDRIA.      341 

**  The  Lord  be  with  you. 

*'  The  People.— And  with  Thy  spirit. 

"  The  Bishop. — Go  in  peace." 

Such  was  the  celebration  of  Christian  worship  in  the 
third  century.  Dangerous  innovations  had  crept  into 
it,  but  it  still  retained  much  of  its  simple  grandeur  and 
a  fervour  of  prayer  and  praise,  which  made  it  a  true  act 
of  adoration,  a  real  and  spiritual  sacrifice  offered  by  the 
Church  to  God.  There  was  scarcely  any  attempt  at 
art,  though  there  was  true  poetry  in  the  fervent  utter- 
ances of  these  devout  hearts.  The  free  spirit  of  God 
still  breathed  through  their  simple  forms,  bowing  the 
penitent  soul  in  the  dust,  and  then  lifting  it  up  with  the 
joy  of  pardon  and  the  strength  of  gratitude.  There  is 
as  yet  no  altar  in  the  churches,  but  there  is  an  altar  in 
every  heart ;  and  nowhere  does  more  sweet  incense  arise 
from  that  altar  than  in  the  pretorium  and  the  arena, 
where  the  blood  of  the  martyrs  is  shed. 

We  have  reproduced  at  some  length  the  rather  mono- 
tonous prayers  of  the  Church,  because  through  them  we 
understand  what  was  the  atmosphere  of  devotion  in 
which  the  early  Christians  lived  and  moved— that 
atmosphere  which  preserved  them  from  the  defilements 
of  the  heathen  world,  and  rendered  them  capable  of  the 
highest  virtues  and  most  heroic  sufferings.  In  this  way 
we  learn  also  how  Christ  was  regarded  by  the  early 
Church.  He  was  at  once  the  creating  Word  and  the 
pitying  Saviour ;  the  Son  of  God,  and  the  brother  and 
friend  of  man.  Nolanguagecouldbe  too  ardent  to  express 
the  tender  veneration  in  which  He  was  held.  Hence 
Unitarianism,  in  its  very  first  manifestations,  appeared 
as  a  heresy  of  the  heart  as  well  as  of  the  mind.     Faith 


342  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

in  the  Christ- God  was  written  in  the  depths  of  the 
Christian  soul ;  every  prayer  breathed  this  faith,  which 
was  indeed  its  very  life.  Never  to  the  Ciiurch  of  these 
early  ages  would  the  Master  have  said  as  to  the  Pharisee 
of  Nain,  "  I  came  into  thy  house ;  thou  gavest  me  no 
kiss."  The  sinful  woman  who  washed  His  feet  with 
tears  and  wiped  them  with  the  hairs  of  her  head,  was 
not  more  full  of  love  than  the  martyr  Church.  What 
in  truth  is  the  Church  but  a  pardoned  sinner,  worship- 
ping her  Redeemer  ? 

The  worship  of  which  we  have  been  speaking  was 
the  ordinary  worship,  whether  celebrated  every  day,  as 
in  Egypt,  or  on  the  Lord's  day  alone.  We  have  also 
described  the  special  observances  connected  with  the 
ceremony  of  baptism,  and  the  Easter  festival.  The 
most  touching  of  the  ceremonies  of  the  early  Church 
was  undoubtedly  the  burial  of  the  martyrs  in  the  crypt 
of  the  catacombs,  by  the  dim  light  of  torches,  and  to  the 
music  of  hymns  of  faith  and  hope.  But  as  Christianity 
is  a  religion  which  extends  its  influence  over  the  whole 
life,  it  was  important  for  us  to  form  an  exact  and  just 
idea  not  only  of  such  special  ceremonials,  but  of  the 
habitual  worship  of  the  Church.  It  was  by  means  ot 
this  united  worship  that  the  Christian  life  was  constantly 
renewed,  and  that  a  spirit  of  devotion  became  its 
habitual  characteristic.  This  harmony  between  public 
worship  and  the  service  of  God  in  the  daily  life  is  the 
peculiar  characteristic  of  a  sincere  and  unpharisaical 
religion.  This  will  be  abundantly  evident  in  the  picture 
we  have  yet  to  give  of  the  moral  life  of  the  Christians 
in  the  midst  of  paganism. 


BOOK    THIRD. 

THE    MORAL    LIFE    OF   THE    CHRISTIANS    OF 
THE  THIRD  AND  FOURTH  CENTURIES, 


BOOK  THIRD. 

THE  MORAL  LIFE  OF  THE  CHRISTIANS  OF 
THE  THIRD  AND  FOURTH  CENTURIES. 

CHAPTER  I. 

THE  PRINCIPLE  OF  THE  MORAL  REFORMS  WROUGHT 
BY  THE  CHURCH  COMPARED  WITH  THE  ATTEMPTS 
AT    SOCIAL   RENOVATION    IN    THE    ROMAN    EMPIRE. 

§  I. — Principle  of  the  Social  Reforms  of  the  Church, 

We  have  been  tracing  the  development  of  Christianity 
within  the  Church,  its  organisation  and  discipline,  and 
the  institution  of  a  worship  in  harmony  with  its  prin- 
ciples. As  the  fundamental  doctrine  of  this  religion  of 
human  redemption  was  the  reconciliation  of  man  to  God, 
it  abolished  all  that  had  been  separative  in  the  earlier 
dispensation.  In  the  sphere  of  Church  government  it 
created  a  religious  equality,  every  Christian  being  a 
priest  and  king,  with  free  access  to  God.  In  the  sphere 
of  worship,  every  home  was  made  a  sanctuary,  every 
day  a  holy  day,  the  entire  life  a  spiritual  sacrifice.  Not 
only  is  every  redeemed  man  called  to  the  service  of  God, 
to  the  abrogation  of  any  priestly  caste,  but  his  whole  ex- 
istence is  to  be  consecrated  and  permeated  by  the  same 
principle.     The  whole  moral  life  is  embraced  by  this 


346  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

new  law.  Let  it  once  be  recognised  that  everyday  and 
every  hour  of  the  day  belongs  to  the  service  of  God, 
and  it  follows  that  every  form  of  human  activity  must 
be  made  subservient  to  this  one  great  aim  of  life. 

Holding  these  principles,  Christianity  necessarily  re- 
pudiated that  pagan  dualism  which,  identifying  matter 
with  evil,  either  led  to  absolute  asceticism  in  the  attempt 
to  destroy  the  evil  element  it  despaired  of  subduing,  or 
gave  the  rein  to  evil  as  to  a  wild  force  not  capable  of 
being  brought  under  the  yoke  of  morality.  The  new 
religion,  on  the  contrary,  freely  recognises  all  the  great 
elements  of  social  life — the  family,  the  service  of  the 
state,  productive  labour,  art — but  makes  them  all  sub- 
serve its  great  end — the  glory  of  God,  and  infuses  into 
them  all  its  distinctive  spirit — holiness.  It  is  destined 
thus  to  become  in  time  a  most  important  social  reformer, 
though  its  reforms  may  for  a  long  period  not  be  felt 
beyond  the  inner  circle  of  the  home.  Thus  will  be 
gradually  formed  a  force  of  opinion  which  will  eventually 
become  paramount  and  change  the  whole  face  of  society. 

We  must  be  prepared,  however,  to  find  that  in  this 
sphere,  as  in  that  of  worship  and  of  ecclesiastical 
government,  the  Church  will  soon  sink  below  its  first 
high  ideal.  Failing  to  renovate  completely  the  natural 
life,  it  will  easily  be  led  again  to  seek  perfection  after 
the  manner  of  the  Brahmin,  and  thus  in  a  measure  to 
revive  the  old  dualism'.  Asceticism,  so  far  from  being 
a  higher  form  of  Christianity,  is  in  its  essence  a  confes- 
sion of  defeat,  an  abdication  of  the  just  claim  to  govern 
and  transform  the  whole  life;  and  the  growth  of  asceti- 
cism gives  the  measure  of  this  failure.  But  the  defeat 
is  at  the  most  but  partial,  and  before  it  is  accepted 


SOCIAL    REFORMS    OF    THE    CHURCH.  317 

Christianity  has  had  time  to  make  a  deep  and  lasting 
impression  upon  family  and  social  life.  Before  the  idea 
shall  have  arisen  of  setting  up  a  standard  of  Christian 
perfection  attainable  only  by  the  elect  few,  while  the 
masses,  to  whom  its  realisation  is  impossible,  shall  be 
consigned  to  a  state  of  semi-holiness,  Christianity  will 
have  sown  in  the  hearts  and  homes  of  its  disciples  that 
seed  of  which  modern  society,  in  spite  of  all  its  blemishes, 
is  the  noble  offspring. 

The  new  religion  was  very  far  from  declaring  war 
against  the  Roman  Empire  and  its  civil  institutions;  it 
indeed  felt  itself  to  be  the  sustaining  power  of  that 
Empire,  as  of  all  human  society,  which,  but  for  it,  would 
soon  have  been  disintegrated.  One  of  its  early  apolo- 
gists, who  breathed  its  purest  spirit,  likened  it  to  the 
soul  in  the  body,  which,  though  an  invisible  presence, 
unites  all  the  parts  and  makes  it  a  living  whole.  So 
Christianity  is  the  sustaining  force  in  the  world,  as  re- 
storing those  principles  of  morality  which  are  the  true 
life  of  all  human  society.*  Such  teaching  is  altogether 
alien  to  the  mystical  asceticism  which  flees  with  heaven- 
directed  eyes  to  the  desert,  whence  it  expects  to  see  the 
avenging  fire  come  down  to  consume  a  doomed  w^orld. 

If  we  try  to  determine  the  chief  characteristic  of  the 
great  reforms  effected  by  the  early  Church  in  the  humble 
spKere  of  private  life,  v/e  discover  that  they  all  tend  to 
revn^e  tKeTrueTdea  of  humanity,  to  destroy  the  barriers 
by  which  men  are  divided,  and  to  restore  the  unity  of 
mankind,  which  paganism  always  ignores.  Every  in- 
stitution (political  or  domestic)  of  the  ancient  world  was 
based  upon  inequality.     Man  was  never  regarded  simply 

*  "  Epistle  to  Diognetus,"  c.  6. 


34^  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

as  man,  but  always  according  to  his  nationality,  rank, 
condition,  sex,  age  —  all  of  which  formed  so  many 
grounds  of  distinction  in  the  eye  of  the  civil  law,  to 
which  there  could  therefore  be  no  appeal  for  even- 
handed  justice.  It  could  not  be  otherwise  so  long  as  the 
pagan  idea  prevailed,  for  the  true  human  idea  is  only 
revealed  in  the  light  of  the  Divine.  There  must  be 
faith  in  one  common  Father  of  all,  before  the  natural  or 
artificial  differences  among  men  will  sink  to  their  true 
proportions. 

Judaism,  which  was  founded  entirely  upon  the  doc- 
trine of  the  unity  of  God,  had  laid  down  a  much  broader 
basis  than  paganism  for  the  family  life,  but  it  main- 
tained sharply  the  distinction  between  nations,  as  it  was 
indeed  constrained  to  do  by  its  fundamental  law,  for- 
bidding all  contact  with  strange  peoples.  Israel  alone 
was  the  holy  and  elect  race,  yet  even  Israel  was  destined 
subsequently  to  open  its  ranks  to  the  Gentiles,  for  the 
idea  of  tlie  reconciliation  of  the  great  human  family  was 
discernible  above  its  stern  exclusiveness  as  its  grand 
final  development.  It  shone  like  a  distant  star  on  the 
prophetic  horizon,  but  too  remote  to  have  any  appreci- 
able effect  on  existing  institutions.  Christianity,  while 
accepting  the  religious  idea  of  Mosaism,  gave  it  singular 
extension.  The  gospel  was  monotheism,  softened  and 
shorn  of  its  lightnings ;  the  religion  of  Calvary,  unlike 
that  of  Sinai,  holds  out  fatherly  arms  of  love  to  all  who 
seek  pardon  and  recojiciliation  in  their  embrace.  Chris- 
tianity alone  therefore  could  use  in  their  full  significance 
those  words  which  are  at  the  root  of  all  moral  and  social 
reforms :  "  In  Christ  there  is  neither  Jew  nor  Greek, 
neither  bond  nor  free."     The  immediate  application  of 


SOCIAL   REFORMS   OF   THE   CHURCH.  349 

such  a  principle  to  the  family  is  the  inauguration  of  a 
new  era,  and,  by  introducing  a  change  in  social  customs, 
paves  the  way  for  a  change  in  the  law.  Justin  Martyr 
says:  *' We  who  refused  to  receive  strangers  into  our 
houses  because  of  the  difference  of  manners,  now  since 
we  have  known  Christ  make  no  difficulty  of  living  with 
any  man. ''"''' 

The  God  of  the  gospel  is  not  only  Supreme  Love  ; 
He  is  also  spotless  purity,  perfect  holiness :  and  this 
holiness  had  been  manifested  in  the  person  of  Christ  in 
a  human  form,  full  of  simplicity  and  gentleness.  This 
hfe  was  to  be  reflected  in  that  of  His  disciples,  and  to 
make  itself  felt  in  every  relation.  Thus  the  Christian 
family  is  not  merely  enlarged  and  delivered  from  the 
harsh  exclusiveness  of  paganism,  but  is  also  saved  from 
the  corruption  which  destroyed  all  the  bonds  of  family 
affection.  These  bonds  were  regarded  by  the  pagans  as 
at  once  oppressive  and  degrading.  This  second  reform 
effected  by  Christianity  is  closely  connected  with  the 
first;  the  same  principle  which  vindicates  the  unity  and 
equality  of  men  secures  purity  also.  Regarding  every 
man  as  one  of  God's  creatures,  and  one  of  Christ's 
redeemed  ones,  the  Christian  will  recognise  every  man 
as  a  brother  and  an  equal,  and  will  not  dare  therefore 
to  make  any  the  mere  plaything  of  his  own  pleasure,  or 
to  defile  m  him  the  image  of  the  Creator.  He  knows 
also  that  he  is  bound  to  reflect  that  image  with  ever- 
growmg  clearness  and  purity  in  his  own  soul  and  life. 
He  believes  in  a  God  whose  goodness  is  not  weakness, 
and  who,  in  the  bold  and  poetical  language  of  Scripture,' 

*  Upbg  Tovg  oi>x  o^wtpvXovg  M  ru  Wrj  hriag  Koiv^g  „,)  'rroiovawoi  vvv 
Te^C^^^^^!''  o,o^.a.o.,.o,e.o.    Justin,  <'Apol."ii. 


350  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

is  a  consuming  fire  for  all  that  is  evil.  Thus,  the  new 
religion,  so  far  from  deserting  the  world,  as  has  been 
unjustly  said,  or  rejecting  any  of  the  various  elements  of 
ordinary  life,  strives  to  purify  and  exalt  them.  It  dis- 
engages the  true  idea  of  humanity  from  the  limitations 
and  alloy  by  which  it  had  been  fettered  and  obscured, 
and  brings  it  out  into  liberty  and  purity.  Humanity 
finds  that  it  really  gains  by  that  which  seems  its  loss  of 
freedom;  for  the  immunities  which  paganism  granted 
in  the  spheres  of  public  and  private  life  and  of  art,  were 
but  as  the  canker  and  the  worm  eating  away  its  very 
life.  In  renouncing  this  false  freedom  it  enters  on  a 
new  and  nobler  career ;  the  ideal  of  the  family,  of  the 
state,  of  art,  all  come  forth  purified  and  ennobled  from 
the  fiery  crucible.  The  flame  of  sacrifice  consumes 
only  the  dross,  and  purifies  all  the  gold  that  is  cast 
into  it. 

It  will  be  our  task  to  trace  this  so_cial  regeneration 
wrought  by  Christianity  in  the  various  spheres  in  wHicTi~ 
it  was  silently  carried  on  ;  while  we  note  at  the  same 
time  the  partial  falling  away  from  its  true  principles, 
which  ended  in  the  ascetic  life  and  teaching  of  some  of 
its  noblest  and  most  devoted  sons. 

It  is  impossible  to  form  a  just  idea  of  the  moral  pro- 
gress effected  by  Christianity  in  the  second  and  third 
centuries,  without  first  attempting  to  realise  what  was 
the  condition  of  the  Greco-Roman  society  in  the  midst 
of  which  it  was  placed. 

We  shall  not  attempt  to  repeat  the  picture  already 
given  in  our  introductory  chapters,  of  the  period  known 
sometimes  as  the  Decline,  sometimes  as  the  Peace,  of 
the  Empire,   according  to   the    more    severe    or   more 


SOCIAL    REFORMS    OF    THE    CHURCH.  35I 

lenient  judgment  of  the  historian.  We  shall  confine 
ourselves  to  a  few  important  points,  only  touching  on 
the  intellectual  movement  of  which  we  have  already 
spoken,  in  so  far  as  it  bears  on  social  life.  No  period 
of  history  has  given  rise  to  so  many  contradictions,  now 
extolled  and  now  decried  in  unqualified  terms  by  the 
apologist  and  controversialist,  as  the  one  sought  to 
exalt  Christianity  and  the  other  to  detract  from  it,  by 
exaggerating  either  the  good  or  the  bad  elements  in  the 
state  of  society  in  the  midst  of  which  it  appeared.  It 
is  needful  for  us  to  set  aside  every  such  prejudice  and 
preconceived  idea,  and  to  recognise  in  this  memorable 
era  the  most  remarkable  admixture  ever  seen  of  good 
and  evil.  Nothing  in  history  is  so  vile  as  the  depths  of 
this  old  world  ;  nothing  can  be  purer,  more  noble,  than 
its  lofty  heights.  But  we  want  to  know  if  these  are 
isolated  heights,  or  if  from  them  there  flow  healing 
streams  into  the  plain  below  ;  if  the  pure  air  breathed 
at  that  altitude  is  capable  of  reaching  and  reanimating 
the  depressed  strata  of  society  beneath  ;  if  the  crowned 
sages  who  reflect  deathless  renown  on  the  human  intel- 
lect can  do  more  than  cast  a  ray  of  far-off  lustre  on  the 
future  of  a  world  which  they  have  no  power  to  regene- 
rate. We  want  to  know  how  the  reform  of  Christianity 
was  accomplished  in  a  world  of  such  conflicting  ele- 
ments, where  the  wrecks  of  obsolete  customs  and 
ancient  systems  form  a  restless  chaos,  out  of  which  a 
new  creation  can  only  be  evolved  by  the  inbreathing  of 
a  new  and  mighty  spirit. 


352  THE    EARLY   CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

§  2. — Pagan  Family  Lifer^ 

A  certain  amelioration  of  manners  is  to  be  traced  as 
coincident  with  the  expansion  of  thought  in  the  early- 
days  of  the  Empire.  But  the  fundamental  principle  of 
ancient  Roman  society  remained,  and,  though  for  a 
time  modified,  might  reassert  itself  at  any  moment  in 
all  its  rude  severity.  The  separatism  which  sacrificed 
the  idea  of  humanity  to  secondary  and  artificial  differ- 
ences, did  not  yield  to  the  aspirations  of  the  lofty  spirits 
who  were  above  and  in  advance  of  their  age;  it  still 
held  sway  in  the  family  and  in  the  forum,  though  tem- 
pered more  than  of  old  by  considerations  of  equity  and 
benevolence.  The  ancient  beliefs  on  which  it  rested  had 
grown  dim  and  dull,  but  no  faith  powerful  enough  to 
write  a  new  law  upon  the  conscience  and  to  transform 
the  institutions  of  society  had  come  to  take  their  place. 

*  In  reference  to  the  efforts  after  social  reform  in  the  Roman  Empire,  we 
take  as  our  authorities  the  writers  of  the  times,  especially  the  comic  poets 
and  authors  of  letters  and  romances.  Of  modern  works  we  quote  from  the 
following  : — 

1.  Foremost  and  of  primary  importance,  the  inscriptions  of  Orelli  com- 
pleted by  Henzen.  "  Inscriptionum  latinarum  selectarum  amplissima  col- 
lectio  ad  illustrandam  Romance  antiquitatis  disciplinam  accommodata. 
Orellius.     Henzen,  Turin,  1 828-1 856. 

2.  Darstellunsen  aus  Sittenaeschichte  Roms.  Two  vols.  By  L.  Fried- 
lander. 

3.  "  Handbuch  der  Roemischen  Alterthiimer,"  begonnen  von  W.  A. 
Becker  fortgesezt  von  Joachim  Marquaidt,  fiinfter  theil.  Roemische  Privatal- 
therthiimer,  Leipzig,  1564. 

4.  "  La  Relision  romaine  d'Auguste  aux  Antonins."  By  Augusta  Bossier. 
Two  vols.      Paris,  Hachette,  1874. 

5  "  Histoire  des  Remains  depuis  les  temps  les  plus  recule's  jusqu'a  la  fin 
du  regne  des  Antonins."   By  Victor  Duruy.     Vol.  v.     Hachette,  1S76. 

6.  "  Essai  historique  sur  la  societe  civile  dans  le  monde  romain  et  sur  sa 
transformation  par  le  Christianisme."  A  work  by  Charles  Schmidt,  Pro- 
fessor of  the  Faculty  of  Strasbourg,  which  was  ciowned  by  the  French 
Academy. 

7.  "Les  apotres;"  *' Saint  Paul ;  "  "L'Antechrist."   By  Ernest  Renan. 


PAGAN    FAMILY    LIFE.  353 

We  must  be  under  no  mistake  :  radical  changes  in  le- 
gislation, though  they  may  be  embodied  in  the  cold  and 
abstract  formulas  of  jurisprudence,  have  always  orig- 
inated in  the  warm  and  living  impulses  of  a  nation's 
heart,  and  these  are  stirred  by  nothing  less  than  a  moral 
revolution.     This  was  the  great  need   of   the  Roman 
world  at  the  commencement  of  our  era.      The  gross 
imperfections  of  its  legislature  were  largely  due  to  the 
decadence  of  the  religious  faith  which  used   to  be  its 
mainspring.     As   no  new  faith  had  taken  the  place  of 
the  old,  it  was  only  a  scornful  or  licentious   scepticism 
which  removed  without  destroying  the  ancient  barriers 
between  class  and  class,  and  unhappily  abolished  moral 
no  less  than  social  restraints.     The  family  relation  was 
at  once  enlarged  and  perverted  under  the  Empire,   and 
it  lost  in  purity  far  more  than  it  gained  in  freedom.     It 
ran  the  risk  of  perishing  from  the  loss  of  all  religious 
faith,  without  being  really   enfranchised   from  the   old 
bondage  of  class  to  class.     The   broader  ideas  of  hu- 
manity which  began  to  circulate  in  the  midst  of  this 
increasing  degradation  of  manners,  were  like  the  mirage 
rising  from  the  marsh— a  false  and  fugitive  light,  .tend- 
ing only  to  mislead. 

It  is  as  true  of  society  as  of  the  individual  man,  that 
life  is  not  sustained  by  bread  alone ;  it  needs  the  moral 
and  religious  element  which  alone  gives  it  consistency, 
maldng^'law  triumph  over  force,  a  certain  fixed  order 
;rthe  hcense  of  conflicting  passion  and  self-interest.  .. 
can  Cnly  exist  where  moral  obligation  is  recognised, 
and  moral  obligation  in  a  nation  is  always  based  upon 
religious  faith.  As  Sophocles  has  nobly  said,  there  is  a 
god  in  every  law.     The  city  of  ancient  times  owed  all 

24 


354  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

its  strength  and  all  its  weakness  to  the  idea  of  a  god 
upon  which  it  was  b2.sed.  It  was  this  idea  which 
gave  it  cohesion  and  durability.  The  religious  belief 
which  in  Greece  and  Rome  governed  the  formation  and 
preservation  of  the  city  was  singularly  powerful.'''  It 
first  reigned  in  the  family,  of  v/hich  the  fatherland  was 
but  the  natural  extension.  Now,  in  the  family — strange 
as  it  is  must  we  not  admit  it? — the  most  powerful  influ- 
ence is  the  memory  of  those  who  are  no  more.  It  seems 
as  though  the  immortal  spirit  would  assert  its  majesty 
through  the  pale,  death-stricken  face  ;  the  dead  are  not 
lost ;  and  over  the  open  grave  where  a  father  is  laid, 
many  a  child  has  caught  its  first  glimpse  of  a  higher 
world  unknown.  The  spirit  of  the  dead  hovers  around, 
men  feel  the  divinity  in  it^  and  to  worship  the  Manes, 
after  the  ashes  had  been  placed  under  the  family 
hearthstone  (which  henceforward  became  a  sacred 
place),  was  a  natural  instinct  of  the  heart.  This  do- 
mestic worship  of  the  I^Ianes  and  Penates  is  the  primi- 
tive worship  of  the  family.  Around  the  hearth,  which 
was  at  once  tomb  and  altar,  the  family  gathered  ;  every 
meal  commenced  with  a  libation  to  the  Manes.  In 
their  'presence  every  defilement  must  be  cleansed,  and 
no  sacrifice  neglected  which  could  bring  them  honour. 
There  must  assuredly  have  been  a  great  moral  power  in 
that  deep  feeling  of  mingled  tenderness  and  terror, 
which  placed  the  whole  life  of  the  family  under  the  pro- 
tection of  a  departed  and  deified  ancestry ;  but  to  the 
same  feeling  the  family  in  these  times  owed  its  stern 
exclusiveness.  Nothing  could  be  more  inhospitable 
than  a  hearth  which  belonged  only  to  the  direct  male 

*  **La  Cite  antique."     By  Fust  el  de  Coulanges.     Paris,  Hachette. 


PAGAN    FAMILY   LIFE.  355 

descendants  of  the  house.  The  supreme  object  of  vene- 
ration in  such  a  home  is  the  progenitor,  who  is  supposed 
to  protect  and  preserve  the  lif-  which  has  sprung  from 
him,  and  who  has  bequeathed  the  lampade  vita  to  his 
heir.     He  alone  is  the  priest  of  the  house,  and  none  but 
his  direct   descendants  can   share  in  the   sacrifice.     A 
stranger  would  profane  the  sacred  act,  and  his  presence 
would  be  enough  to  trouble  the  Manes  ;  thus  the  ances- 
tral tomb  is  carefully  concealed  beneath  a  stone  known 
only  to  the  family.     The  worship  of  the  dead  is  essen- 
tially a  family  rite,  as  is    indicated  by  the  expressive 
term  parentare*    The  dead  who  has  left  no  son  receives 
no  offerings,  says  Lucian.t     Thus  the  family  lives  in  a 
world  of  its  own,  and  even  within  this  little  world  the 
same    principle    of   separation   prevails.      The  woman 
only  takes   part  in   the  domestic  worship  through   the 
man  ;  it  is   through    her  father  while   she   lives  in   his 
house,  and  afterwards  through  her  husband,  that  she 
is  associated   in  the  family  rites— hence  her  perpetual 
minority    and    civil    incapacity.      The  child    stands  to 
the  father  in  the   same  relation  of  dependence  ;   he  is 
only  regarded  as  one  of  the  family  when  he  has  been 
recognised  and  accepted  by  him,  and  he  remains  under 
the  absolute   authority  of  the  representative  of  the  lars 
famiUaris.     Originally,  the  slaves  had  no  right  in  the 
sacrifice  ;  they   were   the  excommunicated  ones  of  the 
house,  and  might  be  used  for  any  vile  purpose.     The 
rights   of   the    family   absolutely   exclude    the    broader 
rights  of  humanity  ;  the  two  are  in  direct  contradiction, 
so  jealous  is  the  tutelary  deity  of  the  hearth.     When 

*  Cicero,    "  De  legibus,"  ii.  26.     Fustel  de  Coulanges,    "  Cite  antique," 
P"  3^*  t  Lucian,  "  De  luctu." 

24  -^ 


356  THE    EARLY   CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

the  family  gradually  grew  by  alliance  with  other  families 
and  became  a  tribe,  and  the  union  of  tribes  formed  the 
city,  this  was  but  an  extended  family  connection,  within 
which  the  more  private  rites  could  still  be  observed. 

The  divinities  of  the  household  subsequently  found 
their  place  in  that  naturalistic  polytheism  which  grew  out 
of  the  awe  felt  by  the  soul  of  man  in  presence  of  the  grand 
aspects  of  nature,  and  especially  in  view  of  the  manifes- 
tation of  its  twofold  forces  of  production  and  of  destruc- 
tion. These  were  personified  under  the  influence  of  that 
feeling  after  a  God  which  is  inherent  in  the  soul,  and 
which  is  more  ready  to  expend  itself  upon  created  objects 
than  to  rise  to  its  source  and  apprehend  it  in  its  purity. 
The  gods  created  by  the  Greek  or  Roman  mind  occupied 
the  same  place  in  relation  to  the  city  as  did  the  Manes 
of  the  departed  to  the  family.  They  were  the  Penates 
of  the  fatherland,  which  also  had  its  sacred  hearth.  At 
Rome  this  was  placed  in  the  temple  of  Vesta,  where  a 
fire  was  to  be  kept  perpetually  burning.  The  same  ex- 
clusiveness  which  had  characterised  the  home  ruled  also 
in  the  city  ;  no  stranger  or  slave  was  recognised ;  the 
intermediate  population  between  the  slaves  and  the 
families  who  had  a  right  to  this  sacrifice,  were  regarded 
as  profane  ;  they  were  attached  to  the  fatherland  rather 
by  a  bond  of  serfdom  than  by  any  moral  tie.  Hence 
the  strong  line  of  demarcation  between  the  plebeian  and 
the  patrician  or  patres,  that  is  to  say,  inheritors  of  their 
ancestry.  Hence  the  domestic  law  which  gave  to  the 
father  absolute  authority  over  wife  and  child,  whom  he 
might  judge,  condemn,  and  even  put  to  death  within 
the  home,  as  sole  king  and  priest  over  his  own  family. 
Hence  the  severity  of  the  laws  of  inheritance,  as  regards 


PAGAN    FAMILY    LIFE.  357 

the  woman,  who  could  not  inherit  in  person,  because,  as 
worship  descended  only  in  the  male  line,  the  inheritance 
which  perpetuates  the  sacred  proprietorship  must  follow 
the  same  course.  Only  the  son  may  sacrifice  after  his 
father  ;  hence  he  is  sole  heir,  and  should  his  line  fail,  the 
property  goes  to  a  collateral  male  branch  of  the  family. 
Natural  so. .ship  gives  no  right  if  it  does  not  coincide 
with  legal  sonship,  that  is,  with  that  which  is  recog- 
nised by  the  father  as  perpetuating  the  ancestral  line. 
Thus  the  former  relation  may  always  be  set  aside  by 
the  latter,  which  is  often  created  by  adoption.  The 
right  of  bequest  does  not  exist  in  this  ancient  constitu- 
tion of  the  family  ;  the  man  is  not  master  either  of  his 
wealth  or  of  himself;  he  belongs  entirely  to  his  house, 
that  is  to  say,  to  his  ancestors  and  his  posterity.* 

This  stern  law  was,  in  the  course  of  time,  modified 
by  various  compromises,  especially  in  Rome,  where  the 
plebs  became  sufficiently  powerful  to  secure  to  them- 
selves their  own  worship,  and  in  a  great  measure  their 
political  rights.  Nevertheless,  the  line  of  demarcation 
was  still  broad  and  clear ;  the  separation  continued  ab- 
solute between  free  men  and  slaves,  and  between  the 
citizens  and  strangers  ;  that  is  to  say,  between  Romans 
and  all  the  rest  of  the  world. 

It  is  certain  that  so  long  as  the  religious  faith  retained 
its  fervour,  it  lent  a  remarkable  power  to  this  social 
status,  and  exerted  a  salutary  influence  upon  the  morals 
of  the  people.  Adultery  in  this  rigorous  organisation  of 
the  Roman  family  was  equivalent  to  sacrilege,  for  it  was 

*  Fustel  de  Coulanges,  "Cite  antique,"  p.  80.  See  also  Troplong, 
"De  rinfluence  du  Christianisme  sur  le  droit  civil  des  Remains."  Paris, 
Hachette,  186S.  c.  3. 


35^  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

an  infraction  at  once  of  the  civil  and  religious  law.  The 
Roman  matron,  spinning  wool  on  the  hearth,  was  re- 
garded as  the  guardian  of  the  sacred  fire  ;  her  mother- 
hood preserved  her  chaste  dignity.  The  father  was 
invested  with  real  majesty,  though  the  yoke  he  laid 
upon  the  whole  household  often  appeared  very  heavy. 
The  conception  of  deity  would  have  been  no  doubt 
greatly  lowered  by  being  thus  embodied  in  the  house- 
hold Lares,  but  for  that  dim  sense  of  the  Divine,  which 
to  the  idolater  is  always  present  as  greater  than  the 
actual  object  of  his  worship.  Man  found  himself  in 
the  presence  of  a  mysterious  power,,  whom  he  dared  not 
offend.  He  knew  that  any  blood  shed,  left  a  stain  on  his 
hearth,  and  cried  for  expiation.  Public  life,  which  was 
but  family  life  on  a  larger  scale,  was  in  the  same  way 
bound  up  with  religion.  The  city  had  its  own  gods — 
the  founders  and  heroes  who  had  defended  and  saved 
it.  Though  dead,  they  were  still  its  tutelary  spirits. 
Thus  each  nation  set  its  own  impress  on  the  deities  of 
classic  polytheism  ;  and  each  had  its  special  divinity, 
which  might  or  might  not  be  adored  elsewhere,  so  com- 
prehensive was  this  vague  mythology. 

The  altar  of  the  city  occupied  a  central  place,  but 
was  always  hidden  from  the  eyes  of  strangers.  All  the 
great  acts  of  political  life  had  a  religious  character. 
The  census  was  the  occasion  of  a  national  purification ; 
entry  on  the  office  of  a  magistrate  was  accompanied 
with  sacred  rites ;  the  Roman  Senate  debated  in  a 
temple,  and  every  popular  assembly  was  inaugurated  by 
a  sacrifice.  The  army  carried  with  it  the  hearth  on 
which  burned  its  sacred  fire.  The  general  sacrificed  be- 
fore the  battle,  and  the  triumph  which  followed  victory 


PAGAN    FAMILY    LIFE.  359 

was  a  great  religious  ceremony.  Thus  religion  bore 
pre-eminently  that  national  character  which  identihed 
it  with  the  entire  life  of  the  people,  but  at  the  same 
time  made  it  local  and  exclusive.  Hence  its  union  of 
strength  and  narrowness. 

This  national  character  impressed  on  religion  was  in 
its  effect  far  more  of  a  peril  than  of  an  advantage,  for 
its  tendency  was  to  render  it  more  and  more  an  out- 
ward and  material  thing  :  it  was  rather  a  well-advised 
policy  than  the  worship  of  a  deity.  At  Rome  especially 
the  national  religion  was  simply  and  solely  self-adora- 
tion. This  was  the  great  idol  which  received  more 
incense  than  all  the  gods  of  Greece,  and  homage  was 
paid  to  these  only  because  they  were  regarded  as  the 
founders  of  the  ancient  glory  of  their  country,  and  be- 
cause fresh  services  were  expected  of  them.  Besides 
the  gods  of  the  first  order,  there  were  a  host  of  local 
divinities  who  owed  their  worship  to  some  service  they 
were  supposed  to  have  rendered  in  times  of  war  or 
plague.  The  Italian  Olympus  was  primarily  a  histo- 
rical monument  :  the  site  of  the  sacred  mountain  was 
not  in  some  distant  and  mysterious  spot;  the  feet  of 
Roman  citizens  trod  it  every  day;  the  Jupiter  of  the 
imperial  city  was  enthroned  on  the  Capitol. 

These  gods  many,  born  in  the  throes  of  national 
calamities,  were  much  more  feared  than  loved.  They 
must  on  no  account  be  offended :  hence  the  minutest 
care  was  taken  in  observing  all  prescribed  rites.  As- 
the  gods  were  not  supposed  to  possess  either  holiness  or 
goodness,  but  merely  a  capricious  power  of  wrath  which 
was  to  be  averted,  there  was  no  idea  of  pleasing  them 
by  pure    manners  and  a  blameless  life,  but  only  of  ap- 


360  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

peasing  them  by  punctual  worship  :  thus  there  was  the 
most  scrupulous  observance  of  sacerdotal  traditions 
both  in  the  sacrifices  and  the  sacred  formulas.  Religion 
was  merely  an  elaborate  ritual,  and  had  little  or  no  influ- 
ence on  the  moral  life.  It  is,  moreover,  of  the  essence  of 
such  a  religion  to  concern  itself  only  with  acts,  taking 
no  notice  of  feelings  or  motives,  and  in  the  acts  them- 
selves to  pay  heed  only  to  those  which  may  have  some 
influence  on  the  constitution  or  destinies  of  the  city. 
Such  a  religion  has  no  scope  beyond  the  terrestrial  and 
the  temporal ;  it  makes  the  soul  cleave  to  the  dust 
instead  of  giving  it  wings,  and  it  puts  in  the  place  of  the 
conscience,  which  enjoins  obedience  to  a  higher  law,  an 
artificial  conscience,  which  takes  account  only  of  those 
actions  which  may  be  injurious  in  their  effects  on  the 
country.  It  is  the  religion  and  morality  of  the  public 
welfare,  and  leaves  entirely  apart  all  that  relates  only 
to  the  simple  practice  of  right  and  to  the  higher  devel- 
opment of  the  individual.'"'  Thus  the  morality  of  Rome 
was  rigidly  monogamist ;  it  enjoined  chastity  on  the 
matron,  since  without  it  family  interests  would  be  dan- 
gerously compromised,  as  the  direct  line  of  descent 
would  no  longer  be  assured  ;  but  it  attached  very  little 
importance  to  irregularity  of  conduct  on  the  part  of  the 
husband.  Cato,  the  ideal  Roman  of  the  republic,  shows 
himself  very  lenient  in  this  respect,  admitting  concu- 
binage without  scruple.  All  the  advantages  of  educa- 
tion are  to  be  granted  to  the  son,  who  is  to  be  his 
father's  legally  recognised  heir,  but  there  is  no  protec- 
tion for  the  child  who  is   not  yet  made  heir,  or  who  is 

*  Gaston  Boissier,    "La    Religion  Romaine  d'Auguste  aiix  Antonins," 
vol.  i.  chap.  I. 


PAGAN    FAMILY    LIFE.  361 

born  out  of  wedlock :  he  is  of  no  value  to  the  republic, 
and  his  position  is  simply  that  of  a  slave.  No  one 
would  have  thought,  in  the  golden  age  of  the  republic,  of 
pleading  in  his  favour  his  simple  right  as  a  man.  It  is 
obvious  that  such  a  religion  can  have  no  influence  on 
the  home  life,  and  still  less  upon  the  inner  moral  life, 
though  an  indestructible  basis  of  morality  may  be  dis- 
covered beneath  its  accumulated  rites  and  ceremonies. 
To  the  same  cause  we  must  ascribe  the  striking  con- 
trast in  the  ancient  Roman  law  between  justice  and 
equity.  Justice  in  Rome,  like  religion,  attaches  no 
importance  to  the  intrinsic  character  of  the  act,  but 
merely  to  its  social  utility  :  it  gives  no  support  to  claims 
founded  on  nature,  but  only  to  those  which  promote  the 
civic  welfare.  In  the  family,  ties  of  blood  are  ignored  ; 
the  civil  bond  is  that  which  alone  gives  power.  As  M. 
Troplong  has  said :  "  The  family  is  nothing  else  than 
an  association  of  individuals  recognising  the  power  of 
one  head,  whose  despotic  authority  is  expressly  sanc- 
tioned by  the  law.  Whoever  magnifies  this  authority 
belongs  to  the  family ;  whoever  lends  nothing  to  it, 
though  he  be  child  or  lineal  descendant,  is  cut  off  from 
the  family.'"'  It  is  not  marriage,  however  regularly 
contracted,  which  gives  the  woman  a  place  in  the  house 
of  her  husband,  but  certain  purely  civil  ceremonies  ap- 
pended to  it.  Even  a  legitimate  son  may  be  cast  out 
of  the  family  and  supplanted  by  an  adopted  child.  In 
every  case,  the  civil  law  overrides  the  law  of  nature.  To 
the  claim  of  blood  Rome  was  deaf  and  impassive.  The 
voice  of  kinship    can   only  make   itself  heard  when  it 

*  Troplong,    "De  I'influence  du    Christianisme   sur   le   droit   civil  d^s 
Romains,"  p.  21. 


362  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

speaks  from  beneath  the  civil  mask,  says  Vico.  "  Ac- 
cording to  the  law  of  the  Twelve  Tables,  that  which  is 
obligatory  on  a  man  is  not  obedience  to  conscience,  to 
the  law  of  right  and  wrong,  but  a  literal  compliance 
with  certain  legal  formalities  :  iiti  lingua  nuncupassit, 
ita  jus  esto.  Everything  that  exceeds  the  appointed 
formula  is  practically  ignored." 

It  is  plain  that  if  the  religion  of  the  family,  in  becom- 
ing the  religion  of  the  city,  rose  one  step  by  putting  in 
the  place  of  the  worship  of  ancestors  that  of  less  local 
divinities,  it  gained  nothing  morally  in  the  change,  for 
it  became  more  and  more  an  outward  and  political  thing. 
All  means  were  regarded  as  sanctified  by  the  end,  that 
end  being  the  public  good  ;  while  the  higher  claims  of 
mercy  and  justice,  in  themselves  the  noblest  of  all,  were 
sacrificed  without  scruple.  It  is  not  then  surprising 
that  the  injurious  effect  of  such  a  religious  system  should 
have  told  upon  Roman  family  life,  even  before  the  an- 
cient faith  was  undermined  by  a  general  scepticism 
yet  more  fatal  in  its  effects.  If  vve  wish  to  understand 
what  was  the  private  life  of  Roman  citizens  two  hun- 
dred years  before  Christ,  we  shall  find  a  graphic  pic- 
ture of  it  in  the  dramatic  representations  of  Plautus, 
painted  by  the  vigorous  hand  of  that  bold  genius  of 
comedy.  Even  through  the  exaggerations  always  used 
by  comic  writers  to  excite  a  smile,  we  feel  that  we  are 
getting  a  glimpse  of  real  life.  We  find  ourselves  in  the 
ancient  Roman  household,  with  its  peculiar  worship, 
the  centre  of  all  domestic  life.  Greek  mythology  has  in- 
troduced into  it  some  of  its  corrupting  fables,  but  in  con- 
tact with  the  rude    Roman  mind  they  have  lost  their 

*  Troplong,  "  De  I'influence  Christianisme  sur  le  droit  civil  des 
Romains,"  p.  42. 


PAGAN    FAMILY    LIFE.  363 

poetic  flavour,  and  are  become  mere  tales,  likely  to  exer- 
cise a  very  pernicious  influence.  Thus  we  find  a  husband 
forbidding  his  wife  to  pay  homage  to  the  male  gods, 
because  of  their  impure  example.  The  old  worship  of 
the  Penates  still  subsists.  There  is  no  hesitation  in 
asking  protection  of  the  deity  for  the  commission  of 
wrong.*  The  law  of  the  family  is  maintained  in  all  its 
severity.  The  father  is  absolute  master  in  the  house, 
keeping  his  wife  in  abject  dependence,  allowing  her  no 
money  for  her  own  use,t  and  armed  with  such  power 
over  his  daughters  that,  in  the  absence  of  their  hus- 
bands,! he  can  compel  them  to  form  other  marriages, 
or  can  oblige  his  virgin  daughter  to  become  a  courtesan. § 
His  control  over  the  young  children  is  not  less  absolute, 
and  he  makes  large  use  of  his  right  of  desertion.  One 
of  the  most  telling  points  in  the  plays  of  Plautus  is  the 
sudden  recognition  by  the  father  of  a  child  whom  he  had 
formerly  repudiated.  The  son,  w^ho  is  to  be  subsequently 
the  heir,  is  kept  in  a  degrading  subjection,  which  pro- 
longs his  minority.  It  was  to  the  representation  of 
slavery,  as  we  shall  see  presently,  that  Plautus  devoted 
his  most  vigorous  efforts.  We  have  thus  ancient  Roman 
society,  with  its  fundamental  institutions,  brought  vividly 
before  us.  Each  of  these  institutions  proved  vicious, 
because  the  moral  and  religious  spirit  which  at  first  ani- 
mated it  had  become  extinct.  Undoubtedly  conscience 
now  and  again  lifted  up  her  voice  in  the  midst  of  this 
social  degradation,  as  though  to  assure  us  that  man,  how- 
ever debased,  cannot  altogether  abjure  his  true  nature. 

*  "Casina,"  V.  238  ;  "  Trinumus,"  v.  17-20. 

t  "  Casina,"  v.  97,  98.  I  This  is  the  whole  intrigue  of  Stichus. 

§  "  Tua  istsec  potestas  est." 

"  Persa,"  v.  34I. 


364  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

Now  we  hear  a  young  woman  pleading  with  her  father, 
who  is  about  to  commit  a  crime,  telUng  him  that  if  to 
poverty  is  added  an  ill  name,  the  poverty  becomes  more 
oppressive,  and  the  shame  lives  on  long  after  it  is  thought 
to  be  dead.*  Again,  a  faithful  wife  refuses  to  break  the 
conjugal  tie  because  her  husband  is  poor.  "  My  beg- 
gar," she  says,  "  pleases  me  as  well  as  a  king  his 
queen."  t  Or  again,  a  wretched  slave  on  the  point  of 
being  sacrificed  for  a  master  whom  he  loves,  says,  with 
Antigone,  "  He  who  dies  for  virtue  does  not  perish. J 
But  these  are  but  fugitive  gleams,  and  only  enhance  the 
general  gloom.  Even  the  sovereignty  of  the  father  has 
no  true  dignity ;  his  white  hairs  have  been  too  be- 
draggled in  the  mire  to  form  a  crown  of  glory,  and  his 
authority  is  only  regarded  as  a  detestable  yoke,  to  be 
escaped  by  any  artifice.  The  gravest  cause  of  evil  is, 
that  the  unfaithfulness  of  the  husband  is  sanctioned  so 
long  as  the  civil  rights  of  marriage  are  secured  ;  and  the 
very  father  of  the  aggrieved  wife  will  endeavour  to  bring 
her  back  to  reason. 

The  matron  takes  revenge  on  her  husband  either  by 
giving  vent  to  her  spleen  in  insufferable  tattle,  or  by  lay- 
ing some  snare  for  him  by  which  his  gross  vices  will  be 
exposed,  or  by  covering  and  encouraging  the  immorali- 
ties of  her  son.  The  son  uses  the  great  weapon  by  which 
unprincipled  weakness  seeks  to  free  itself  from  a  hated 
yoke :  he  deceives  his  father  by  all  means  in  his  power. 

*   "  Nam  si  ad  paupertatem  admigrant  infamiae, 
Gravior  pauperlas  tit. " 

''Peisa, "v.  354-355.       ^^ 
t    "  Placet  ille  meus  mihi  mendicus  ;  suus  rex  reginre  [  lacet, 

"Stichus,"  V.  132. 
X   "  Qui  per  virtutem  perbitat,  is  non  intent." 

"Captivi,"  V.  623. 


PAGAN    FAMILY    LIFE.  365 

The  slave  is  always  his  accomplice,  and  finds  his  revenge 
on  his  master  by  corrupting  the  morals  of  the  family. 
The  father,  who,  like  all  tyrants,  lives  an  isolated  life, 
has  as  his  habitual  guest  some  parasite,  who  pays  by  his 
gross  flatteries  for  his  share  in  the  orgies.  "  At  his 
table,"  says  one  of  these  degraded  creatures,  "  one  de- 
fends his  hearths  and  his  altars."*  Plautus  brings  before 
us  one  of  the  most  fearful  consequences  of  the  desertion 
of  children.  This  barbarous  practice  gives  the  fullest 
encouragement  to  prostitution,  which  is  carried  on  with 
unblushing  freedom,  and  every  facility  is  offered  to  these 
unnatural  vices,  which  are  accepted  as  a  law  of  nature. t 
Thus  the  family  dwelling,  with  its  sacred  hearth  and  the 
purifying  fire  which  is  to  be  kept  ever  burning  on  the 
altar,  is  a  place  without  purity  or  domestic  love.  Face 
to  face  with  it  the  lupanar  keeps  open  door  as  a  sort  of 
recognised  institution  for  men  of  every  age,  even  though 
those  who  pass  its  portals  do  so  to  their  own  irrecover- 
able damage  and  loss.  | 

Half  a  century  later,  we  should  say,  judging  from  the 
dramatic  representations  of  Terence,  that  manners  were 
softened,  and  that  benevolence  had  asserted  its  sway  ; 
prospects  unknown  in  the  past  open  before  the  eye  ; 
there  is  more  breadth  and  freedom  of  spirit ;  the  voice 
of  humanity  is  heard  in  the  sublime  words  which  did 
not  signify  at  first  all  that  they  have  since  been  seen  to 

mean  : — 

Homo  sum  et  nil  humani  a  me  alienum  puto. 

As  we  read  Terence,  we  are  fain  to  believe  that  the  head 

*   "  Nam  ibi  de  divinis  atque  humanis  cernitur. " 
"Trinumus,"  v.  436. 
t  "Mercator,"  v.  41.  J  *' Trucnlentus,"  v.  322. 


366  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

of  the  family  makes  a  less  despotic  use  of  his  authority, 
and  yields  to  some  natural  emotions  of  fatherly  tender- 
ness. The  son  in  return,  in  the  midst  of  his  youthful 
follies,  shows  some  gleams  of  true  filial  affection. 
Natural  feeling  is  expressed  with  that  delicacy  of  lan- 
guage, naivete,  and  quick  sensibility  which  form  the 
charm  of  the  comedies  of  Terence.  Greek  intiuence  has 
fostered,  even  among  the  rude  Romans,  that  graceful 
poetry  impregnated  with  Attic  salt,  which  has  given 
an  air  of  elegance  and  originality  even  to  the  merely 
imitative.  Yet  Roman  society  remains  essentially  the 
same  ;  the  father  still  has  the  right  to  abandon  his  child 
at  will ;  the  slave  may  be  crucified  at  the  caprice  of 
the  master ;  the  mother  occupies  an  inferior  position 
in  the  house,  and  never  obtains  the  respect  she  deserves, 
however  noble  may  be  her  character  and  conduct.  The 
son  resorts  to  a  thousand  artifices  to  procure  money  and 
indulge  his  youthful  follies.  The  procurer,  the  court- 
esan, the  treacherous  slave,  are  all  prominent  and  im- 
portant personages.  Vice  seems  a  matter  of  course, 
and  is  the  basis  of  every  intrigue.  The  poetry  of 
Terence,  unlike  most  of  the  compositions  of  the  ancient 
theatre,  is  much  more  beautiful  than  the  face  it  covers, 
but  still  a  transparent  mask,  through  which  pagan 
society  is  seen  in  all  its  vileness.  We  fully  admit  that 
there  are  exceptions  to  the  general  impurity,  and  that 
there  are  some  noble  characters,  some  well-assorted 
marriages  which  spread  around  them  an  atmosphere  of 
virtue  ;  but  Terence  gives  us  the  average  morality  of 
his  time,  and  in  the  pieces  which  derided  Scipio  we  have 
an  animated  and  faithful  picture  of  the  manners  of  the 
age. 


PAGAN    FAMILY    LIFE.  367 

The  influence  of  Greece  somewhat  modified  and  soft- 
ened the  ancient  constitution  of  Roman  society,  both  in 
private  and  public  life  ;  but  the  change  was  not  radical. 
It  was  two  centuries  later  that  the  decisive  transforma- 
tion was  wrought  which  inaugurated  the  rule  of  imperial 
Rome.  At  this  important  crisis  we  note  the  develop- 
ment of  the  two  influences  w'hich  have  done  most  to 
enlarge  the  mind,  to  demand  consideration  for  man 
simply  as  man,  and  to  anticipate,  if  not  to  establish,  the 
broad  claims  of  humanity,  as  above  the  merely  prescrip- 
tive rights  of  a  hard  and  narrow  jurisprudence. 

Roman  conquests  and  stoicism  combined  to  produce 
this  result,  though  it  was  as  yet  but  very  partially  and 
imperfectly  realised.  Stoicism  can  hardly  be  spoken 
of  as  yet,  on  the  eve  of  the  Empire ;  the  philosophy 
of  Cicero  is  akin  to  the  new  Academy,  and  borrows 
thence  its  generous  intuitions  touching  the  common- 
wealth of  man.  From  this  period  this  great  cause  of 
the  expansion  of  ideas  displays  all  its  power,  and  only 
gains  strength  by  the  conquests  of  the  Empire.  The 
dominion  of  Rome  extends  east  and  west,  over  peoples 
of  every  tongue  and  of  every  grade  of  civilisation.  The 
ancient  city  becomes  too  strait  to  serve  as  the  focus  of 
so  vast  an  empire.  The  right  of  citizens,  granted  first 
to  the  Italians,  is  finally  extended  to  the  provinces,  by 
the  famous  edict  of  Caracalla.  A  concession  so  alien  to 
the  original  constitution  of  Rome  clearly  indicates  a 
revolution  in  thought  as  well  as  in  act.  But  it  would 
be  an  error  to  suppose  that  it  went  far  enough  to 
establish  the  right  of  man  as  man,  apart  from  any 
civic  relation.  The  city  had  indeed  become  a  vast 
aggregate,  but  all  beyond  it — the  savage  and  indomit- 


368  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

able  Germans,  the  Parthians,  and  in  short  all  nations 
not  appertaining  to  Rome — were  still  regarded  simply 
as  barbarians,  and  the  circus  yet  reeked  with  the  blood 
of  the  captives  who  were  brought  back  from  the  wars 
constantly  carried  on  for  the  protection  of  the  frontiers 
of  the  empire.  The  stranger  comes  from  a  greater  dis- 
tance than  before,  but  he  is  still  excluded  from  all 
common  rights,  and  has  no  more  protection  than  the 
slave  against  the  abuse  of  power. 

It  must  not  be  forgotten,  moreover,  that  the  privileges 
of  the  city  were  thus  extended  just  at  the  time  when  they 
had  become  of  least  value.  Civil  wars  had  developed 
the  spirit  of  vengeance  and  contempt  of  human  life  ; 
torrents  of  blood  had  been  shed  without  scruple.  We 
know  how  recklessly  the  imperial  government  trampled 
under  foot  all  rights  and  liberties,  reducing  the  senate 
to  a  state  of  shameful  degradation,  withdrawing  from 
the  people  the  right  of  suffrage,  and  confounding  all 
ranks  in  a  common  servitude.  In  losing  his  political 
rights  the  citizen  ceases  to  be  truly  a  man.  Abandoned 
to  the  caprice  of  his  superior,  exalted  to-day,  degraded 
to-morrow,  he  has  neither  dignity  nor  security  :  all  are 
equal,  but  it  is  the  equality  of  the  slave.  Scepticism  is 
at  the  same  time  spreading  on  every  hand  ;  faith  in  the 
gods  is  all  but  extinct.  Impatient  to  get  his  share  of 
so  much  accum.ulated  wealth,  and  alwa3^s  uncertain  of 
the  morrow  under  a  despotism  which  made  all  life  pre- 
carious, the  Roman  citizen  ran  headlong  into  debauch. 
How  was  it  possible  that  under  such  conditions  the 
conquest  of  the  world  should  have  restored  the  true 
idea  of  humanity  ? 

That  idea  shone  out  brilliantly  in  the  noble  philosophy 


PAGAN    FAMILY    LIFE. 


369 


which  was  the  most  original  creation  of  the   Roman 
mind,  in  that  lofty  Stoicism  of  which  Seneca  was  the 
eloquent  apostle.    We  have  already  shown  how  import- 
ant an  influence  was  exercised  by  this  school  on  the 
moral  progress  of  the  empire.     We  need  not  now  fully 
enter  into   its  teaching,  which  was  rather  a  rule  of  con- 
duct than  a  philosophy.    It  gave  to  the  idea  of  the  unity 
of  m.ankind  such  expression  as  it  had  never  before  found 
in  the   ancient  world.     Nothing  can  be  more  emphatic 
on  this  point  that  the  saying  of  Seneca,  Homo  res  sacra 
homini*—^^  Let  man  be  sacred  to  his  fellow  man."    He 
followed  out  this  noble  principle   to   its  fullest    conse- 
quences when  he  said  again,  -  We  recognise  the  whole 
world  as  our  fatherland."!     He  pleaded  the  cause  of  the 
weak    and    oppressed,  and    demanded  that   the    slave 
should  be  treated  not  as  a  beast  of  burden,  but,  to  use 
his  expression,  as  an  inferior  friend.     We  do  not  think 
that  he  must  of  necessity  have  learned  these  maxims  of 
benevolence  in  the  school  of  St.  Paul,  and  we  reject  the 
legend  of  his  pretended  correspondence  with  the  Apostle 
of  the   Gentiles.:      It  can    never  be  positively  denied, 
however,  by  a  sound  criticism,  that  the  new  religion  may 
have    exerted   at   least    an   indirect  influence  over  the 
great  minds  of  the  time.     Christianity  in  the  first  cen- 
tury of  our  era  had  widely  extended  its  missions  ;  it  had 
already  diffused  through  the  general  atmosphere  a  purer 
breath-of  humanity.     It  will  never  be  possible  to  deter- 
mine how  far  Stoicism  was  affected  bv  it.     We  have  no 
wish  to  detract  anything  from  its  glory;  it   unquestion- 

*  ^'J^aIV^V       .;  c     «  \  ''"De  tranquillitate  animi."  3. 


^yO  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

ably  strengthened  the  bonds  of  kindness  and  brotherly 
feeling  which  were  presently,  under  a  yet  mightier  influ- 
ence, to  transform  completely  the  stern  legislation  of  the 
ancient  city.  It  contributed  in  more  than  one  respect 
to  make  that  legislation  more  equitable,  and  to  exalt 
the  true  law  of  nature  above  that  w-hich  w^as  merety  arti- 
ficial and  exclusive.  Nevertheless,  it  is  admitted  by 
even  its  warmest  admirers,  that  it  failed  to  produce  a 
complete  change  in  the  customs  of  society  ;  it  fostered 
all  generous  aspirations,  but  it  had  not  power  to  realise 
them;  it  showed  the  high  standard  to  be  attained, 
but  it  left  it  a  still  remote  ideal.  Its  powerlessness  to 
renovate  society  is  explained  by  many  causes.  First, 
stoicism  had  made  a  miscalculation  when  it  judged 
that  practical  morality  would  gain  by  all  that  was 
removed  from  the  region  of  metaphysics ;  and  it 
deprived  itself  of  the  most  powerful  lever  to  raise  the 
human  soul,  when  it  asserted  its  independence  of  the 
religious  conscience  or  of  philosophic  thought.  Its 
precepts  failed  for  w^ant  of  this  support ;  they  could 
not  counterbalance  the  opposite  maxims,  which  were 
interwoven  with  a  whole  system  of  religious  beliefs; 
these  must  be  overthrown,  and  a  substitute  found  for 
them,  if  the  old  inequalities  among  men  were  practically 
to  cease.  Not  only  had  Stoicism  nothing  to  offer  which 
could  take  the  place  of  the  popular  religion,  but,  after 
elaborating  a  paradoxical  doctrine  w-hich  cast  a  veil  of 
monotheism  over  the  ancient  pantheistic  naturalism, 
and  while  promising  liberty  to  the  wise,  led  as  its  ne- 
cessary issue  to  fatalism,  it  finally  accepted  polytheism 
with  all  its  gross  fables.  It  retained  indeed  its  peculiar 
tenets,  but  as  these  were  reserved  for  its  adepts,  they 


PAGAN    FAMILY    LIFE.  37I 

exercised  no  influence  upon  the  masses,  who  still 
adhered  to  the  old  superstitions,  and  knew  nothing 
of  this  humanitarianism  of  the  initiate.  A  moral 
theory  which  is  not  associated  with  any  religious  sen- 
timent always  lacks  force  and  fire,  and  fails  to  produce 
any  real  change  in  the  condition  of  society.  Stoicism 
had  its  preachers  and  directors  of  conscience,  but  its 
influence,  though  beneficial,  never  extended  beyond  a 
very  narrow  circle.  "  With  its  deserted  heaven,"  says 
M.  Duruy,  "which  could  not  be  supposed  to  beam 
kindly  upon  Christianity,  with  its  bare  doctrine  of  duty, 
without  any  other  recompense  than  that  of  a  satisfied 
conscience,  with  its  haughty  attitude  towards  the 
gods  from  whom  it  asked  nothing,  and  its  future  of 
annihilation  to  which  it  looked  forward  without  trem- 
bling. Stoicism  was  adapted  only  to  a  few  select  souls, 
never  to  the  body  of  the  people.  This  morality  with- 
out religion,  this  philosophy  without  metaphysics,  this 
rationalism  without  any  element  of  the  marvellous, 
could  never  gain  any  grasp  of  the  common  mind,  and 
failed  to  satisfy  those  who  were  aspiring  after  a  higher 
ideal.  "* 

The  Stoics  were  fully  conscious  of  this  lack  of  power; 
hence  Seneca  said,  that  if  the  state  was  too  corrupt  to 
be  cured,  the  wise  man  should  not  expend  his  strength 
in  unavailing  efforts. t  The  stoical  doctrine  of  the 
insensibility  of  the  sage  was  ill  adapted  to  re-adjust 
the  relations  between  men.  It  implied  that  all  that 
was  beyond  his  reason  was  foreign  to  him,  though 
it  were  his  own  wife  and  children,  as  said  Epictetus. 
Thus  the  Stoic  isolated  himself  on  the  frozen  summit 

*  Duruy,  "Histoire  des  Romains,"  v.  431.  f  Seneca,  "  De  otio,"  32. 


373  THE    EARLY   CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

of  his  pride.  All  its  eloquent  admonitions  to  compassion 
were  singularly  weakened  by  this  theory  of  complete 
indifference.  Seneca  had  even  gone  so  far  as  to  charge 
his  disciples  not  to  allow  themselves  to  be  troubled 
by  the  tears  of  others.*  Pity  and  ready  charity 
were  only  secondary  virtues;  impassibility,  making 
the  sage  greater  than  Jupiter  himself,  was  the  crown- 
ing glory  of  man.  f  That  which  was  peculiarly  lacking 
to  the  stoical  philosophy  was  the  power  to  triumph 
over  evil.  Where  could  it  find  strength  for  such  a 
conflict,  driving  man,  as  it  did,  back  upon  himself,  and 
opening  no  avenue  through  which  higher  help  could 
reach  him  ?  Admire  only  thyself;  I  this  was  its  motto. 
Thus  it  left  man  to  his  own  impotence.  Its  most 
illustrious  adepts  furnished  the  proof  of  this  in  them- 
selves, for  they  were  constrained  to  admit  that  they  fell 
far  short  of  their  ideal,  and  thus  provoked  the  ironical 
comment  of  those  who  watched  their  lives. — Aliter 
loqtieris,  aliter  vivis.^  We  know  how  many  allowances 
Seneca  made  for  the  moral  miseries  of  his  time. 
Serenus,  his  most  distinguished  disciple,  the  melancholy 
devotee  of  the  ideal,  died,  like  Claudius,  of  an  attack 
of  indigestion  from  a  surfeit  of  mushrooms. 

The  noblest  adherents  of  this  schoolwere  also  those 
who  felt  the  deepest  despair,  and  it  is  to  them  we  owe 
that  apology  of  suicide,  which  is  the  final  utterance  of 
the  system,  and  the  admission  of  its  inability  to 
renovate  society  or  man.|| 

We  cannot  better  conclude  our  remarks  on  the 
teaching   of  the   Stoics,  and  of    Seneca  in   particular, 

*  "  Non  succuiit  alienis  lacrymis."     Seneca,  "  De  Clement."  i6. 
t  Ibid.  "  Const.  Sapient."  2.  X  Ibid.  "Vita  Beata,"  5.  §  Ibid. 

II  Ibid.  "Ep."  70. 


PAGAN    FAMILY    LIFE.  373 

than  by  quoting  the  judgment  pronounced  by  M. 
Boissier  in  his  noble  book  on  the  religion  of  the  Romans 
from  Augustus  to  the  Antonines. 

"  Nothing  was  more  remote  from  the  Stoic's  idea 
than  the  creation  of  a  broad  and  popular  Church, 
which  might  gather  in  and  hold  the  floating  mass  of 
mankind  in  quest  of  an  exact  belief.  Its  hesitating 
philosophy  contains  no  solution  of  the  great  problems 
which  reason  proposes ;  its  morality  is  neither  suf- 
ficiently strong  nor  sufficiently  assured  to  form  a  refuge 
for  the  soul  amid  the  storms  of  life.  Its  passionate 
utterances  might  raise  a  sort  of  feverish  emotion  in 
those  who  heard  them,  but  could  furnish  no  sustaining 
food  for  the  mind.  It  agitated  questions  which  it  could 
not  resolve.  Thus  the  Stoic  failed  to  build  up  his  own 
school  ;  the  minds  which  he  aroused  to  think,  but 
could  not  satisfy,  sought  satisfaction  elsewhere,  and 
it  was  not  Stoicism,  but  another  doctrine  which  reaped, 
the  benefit  of  its  sowing."* 

There  was,  however,  a  period,  brief  indeed,  which 
united  all  the  conditions  necessary  to  this  moral  reno- 
vation :  this  was  the  age  of  the  Antonines,  when  the 
two  forces,  which  had  been  at  work  most  effectually  to 
enlarge  the  narrow  circle  of  the  ancient  city,  were  com- 
bined in  the  person  of  the  rulers.  The  universal 
monarchy,  which  had  brought  almost  all  nations  under 
the  dominion  of  Rome,  had  at  its  head  emperor-philo- 
sophers. Before  their  day,  one  great  prince  had  en- 
deavoured to  reform  Roman  society.  Augustus,  as 
soon  as  he  found  himself  in  possession  of  undisputed 

*  *'La  Religion  Romaine  depuis  Auguste  jusqu'aux  Antonins."  Vol.  ii. 
p.  504. 


374  '^HE    EARLY   CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

power,  used  it  with  wise  moderation  for  the  purpose  of 
giving  again  a  soul  to  that  great  soulless  body  of  the 
empire  of  which  he  was  the  head,  and  for  infusing  into 
it  afresh  those  religious  beliefs  without  which  no  State 
is  able  to  sustain  itself.  He  devoted  the  utmost  care 
to  the  restoration  of  the  old  forms  of  worship.  Chosen 
sovereign  pontiff  by  the  votes  of  the  coniitia,  he  made 
the  altar  the  prop  of  his  throne,  and  encouraged  re- 
ligion by  every  measure  adapted  to  show  that  he  was 
pleased  with  its  somewhat  ostentatious  observance. 
He  even  created  new  forms  of  worship,  some  of  which 
were  in  his  own  honour,  and  had  their  privileged 
college  of  priests.  Never  had  the  religious  solemnities 
been  observed  with  more  enthusiasm.  When  the  great 
secular  jubilee  was  celebrated,  it  would  have  seemed 
that  the  universal  scepticism  of  the  foregoing  age  was 
an  obsolete  thing,  and  that  henceforth  the  ridicule  of 
^the  doubters  would  be  covered  by  the  prayers  of  a  people 
sincerely  devoted  to  their  gods.  And  yet  this  restoration 
of  the  old  rites  was  purely  political,  and  consequently 
artificial.*  Faith  cannot  be  sustained  by  decrees,  and 
in  all  these  august  ceremonials  faith  was  lacking. 
Augustus  rebuilt  the  altars,  as  another  despot  would 
subsequently  do,  on  the  eve  of  convulsions  yet  more 
terrible  than  those  of  the  triumvirate.  The  moral  dis- 
position of  a  people  is  not  to  be  changed  by  a  coup 
d'etat.  Thus,  under  Augustus,  all  religion,  except  in 
the  case  of  some  tender  and  tearful  souls  like  Virgil, 
was  purely  perfunctory,  a  mere  semblance  of  faith, 
worn  as  a  court  uniform.  How  could  it  be  forgotten 
that  the  coryphaeus  of  the  secular  games  was  Horace, 

*  See  Boissier,  vol.  i.  c.  3. 


PAGAN    FAMILY    LIFE.  375 

the  graceful  Epicurean,  who  broke  off  his  songs  at 
Lesbia  to  celebrate  the  great  gods  in  whom  he  did  not 
believe  ?  Augustus  sought  and  aimed  at  a  reformation 
of  manners  no  less  than  of  ideas  :  he  passed  one  decree 
after  another  for  the  punishment  of  adultery,  and,  by 
the  law  Pappia  Poppcea,  he  made  celibacy  a  crime,  and 
a  fruitful  marriage  a  claim  to  imperial  gifts.  Un- 
happily, his  favourite  was  Mecsenas,  the  man  of  twenty- 
seven  divorces ;  he  himself  had  been  an  adulterer 
before  his  marriage,  and  the  veiled  litter  which  was 
borne  into  the  palace  did  not  escape  the  eyes  of  the 
chaste  vestals.  His  daughter  and  granddaughter,  the 
two  Julias,  by  the  excesses  through  which  they  brought 
dishonour  on  his  hearth,  showed  the  utter  futility  of 
such  decrees  in  matters  of  morality.  Augustus  might 
send  Ovid  to  die  in  Thrace  for  his  part  in  these  scandals, 
and  for  having  relieved  the  tedium  of  his  so-called  reli- 
gious works  by  writing  licentious  verses  ;  but  he  could 
not  exorcise  the  spirit  of  licence,  the  demon  of  un- 
bridled lust,  which  possessed  this  ancient  world. 

The  moral  and  religious  reforms  of  the  Antonines 
were  far  more  important.  In  the  first  place,  they  were 
undertaken  by  men  who  belonged  themselves  to  the 
moral  elite  of  mankind  ;  they  were  the  purest  and  noblest 
of  all  the  adherents  of  the  Stoical  philosophy.  The 
thoughts  of  Marcus  Aurelius  remain  to  this  day  the 
breviary  of  unaided  human  virtue.*  Moreover,  these 
great  princes  found  a  standpoint  for  their  reforms  in 
the  reawakening  of  religious  faith,  which  began  under 
their  reign,  in  great  part  under  the  influence  of  the  dif- 

*  See  M.  Barthelemy  Saint-Hilaire's  beautiful  rendering  of  these  thoughts 
into  French,  with  his  inli-odr.ction  and  pi-eface. 


37^  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

ferent  national  religions  to  which  Rome  accorded  the 
large  hospitality  of  her  Pantheon.     The  Stoical  philo- 
soph}',  while  still  carrying  on  its  eclectic  proselytism, 
and  that  kind  of  lay  pastorate  which  it  so  well  under- 
stood,  became   more    and    more    close  y  allied   to   the 
popular  religion,  the  symbols  of  which   it   interpreted 
after  its   own  fashion.     Marcus   Aurelius  always  har- 
monised  his    philosophy   with    the   national    religion, 
observing  its  rites  as  a  sincere  devotee.     Under  these 
conflicting  influences,  the  level  of  morality  rose  among 
the  higher  classes;    legislation    became    more    lenient 
towards   the   oppressed;  women,   children,  and   slaves 
benefited  by  this  advance,  as  we  shall  have  occasion  to 
observe  when  we  come  to  trace  the  reforms  wrought  by 
Christianity   in   the   life   of  the    home.     The   old   law,' 
which  recognised  only  the  right  of  the  citizen,  who  was 
the  sole  proprietor,  to  whom    alone  the  law  accorded 
protection,   both  in   goods   and   person,,  and   who   was 
constituted   absolute  master  of  all   his   immediate  in- 
feriors,— this  narrow  and  implacable  law  was  modified 
to  some  extent  by  the  principles  of  natural  right.   Strict 
legality,    which    recognised    only    the    historical    right 
created  by  privilege  and   conquest,  was  also   made  to 
yield    slightly    to    considerations    of   equity.*       Cicero 
was  the  first  to  say  that  the  source  and  rule  of  right 
was  to  be  sought,  not  in  the  law  of  the  Twelve  Tables, 
but   in   human   reason  ;  that   true   faith   is   the  law  of 
equity  written  in  the  conscience,  an  eternal  law,  from 
which  no  senate  can  set  us  free.     The  lawyers  of  the 
tw^o  following  ages,  especially  in  the  times  of  the  Anto- 
nines,  imbibed  these  noble  principles,  but  without  being 

*  Tioplong,   %\ork  quoted. 


PAGAN   FAMILY   LIKE.  ,-- 

able  always  to  make  them  prevail  over  the  old  law  In 
some  cases  they  could  only  bend  and  modify,  not  abro- 
gate the  ancent  practice,  though  they  appealed  directly 
to  the  law  of  nature  in  support  of  the  original  equality 
of  men.  By  skilful  subterfuges  they  contrived  to  create 
certain  rights  to  property,  not  merely  civil.  The  ri<.ht 
of  bequest  could  follow  the  dictates  of  natural  affection 
in  the  matter  of  inheritance,  by  means  of  the  codicil. 
1  he  will  of  the  man  counterbalanced  the  will  of  the 
civil  law."*  Beneficence  was  encouraged;  the  em- 
perors established  foundations  for  the  indigent,  and  the 
towns  were  enabled  to  act  in  concert  in  raising  barriers 
against  the  scourges  by  which  any  one  of  them  might 
be  visited.  A  broader  bond  of  solidarity  linked  together 
the  members  of  this  great  social  body,  and  the  latitude 
granted  to  the  corporations  of  workmen,  and  to  the 
burial  clubs,  extended  the  benefit  of  this  solidarity  to 
the  lowest  grades  of  society. 

Again,  it  is  not  possible  to  determine  how  much  the 
indirect  influence  of  Christianity,  which  was  a  con- 
stantly  growing  power,  had  to  do  with  these  reforms 
which  It  has  been  necessary  for  us  to  look  at  collectively' 
m  order  to  see  their  general  bearing.  Of  the  Roman 
empire  at  this  period,  it  may  be  said,  as  Villemain 
said  of  bpictetus:  It  was  not  Christian,  but  it  bore 
the  impress  of  Christianity.  Like  the  ship  of 
Christopher  Columbus,  to  which  the  wind  carried 
waits  of  perfume  from  the  unknown  shore  on  which 
he  was  about  to  land,  but  which  had  not  yet  risen 
into  view,  so  the  thought  of  man,  on  the  eve  of  touching 
on  a  new  world,  feels  passing  over  it  a  new  and  divine 

*  Troplong,    work  quoted. 


378  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

breath,  b}^  which  it  knows  that  that  world  is  not  far 
away. 

Without  detracting  at  all  from  the  importance  of  the 
reforms  of  the  Antonine  age,  we  ma}-  admit  that  they 
were  inadequate  to  reconstitute  societ3^upon  an  entirely 
new  basis.  The  institutions  of  the  empire  were  op- 
posed to  any  such  radical  change ;  everything  hung 
on  the  will  of  one  man,  who,  to  use  the  expression  of 
Philo  the  Jew,  was  his  own  law.  There  was  nothing 
to  prevent  the  succession  of  such  a  man  as  Commodus 
to  Marcus  Aurelius,  and  this  unworthy  monarch  could 
use  the  same  unlimited  power  to  undo  the  work  of  his 
father.  It  is  true  that  the  legislation  which  has  passed 
into  codes  cannot  thus  be  reversed  with  a  change  of 
sovereign ;  nay,  it  has  even  happened  that  under  the 
worst  emperors,  private  rights  have  received  some  new 
sanction  in  the  text  of  the  law ;  but  this  was  but  a  dead 
letter,  and  did  not  prevent  the  constant  advance  of 
social  decomposition  and  corruption  of  manners.  The 
right  of  citizenship  had  been  granted  to  all  nations  at 
the  very  time  when  civic  rights  had  become  purely 
nominal,  except  in  some  small  provinc.al  towns  which 
had  maintained  their  communal  life,  and  found  them- 
selves perhaps  happier  under  the  rule  of  a  remote 
power  than  when  they  were  subject  to  the  impositions 
of  such  men  as  Verres.  The  total  absence  of  public 
spirit,  the  acceptance  of  an  unlimited  despotism,  the 
servility  of  a  cringing  senate,  the  prostration  of  a 
nobility,  which,  when  it  w^as  not  leading  the  life  of 
camps,  knew  no  way  of  expending  its  treasures  but  in 
feasts  and  orgies,  the  degradation  of  a  people  which 
had   changed   its  comitia  for  the   circus,   and   lived   by 


PAGAN    FAMILY    LIFE. 


379 


imperial  alms ;  all  these  vicious  conditions,  found  in 
combination  under  the  empire,  were  stronger  than  the 
best  intentions  and  the  most  generous  maxims.  A 
virtuous  prince  arrested  for  some  years  the  progress  of 
decay,  but  even  he  could  reach  only  that  which  was 
external.  The  vices  of  the  system  were  not  subdued  ; 
its  regular  action  continued  to  produce  the  same  results 
throughout  the  whole  empire,  in  those  lower  strata  of 
the  people  which  were  not  reached  by  the  influence  of. 
the  head,  great  as  he  might  be.  The  state  soon  fell 
back  into  the  shameful  and  perilous  condition  in 
which  the  traitor  played  the  part  of  an  officious  public 
officer,  accusing  the  best  citizens,  and  getting  them 
condemned  by  reason  of  their  many  virtues.  Suspicion 
and  terror  spread  through  all  classes  ;  the  precariousness 
of  the  life  they  led  gave  a  feverish  zest  to  the  search 
after  pleasures,  and  lent  force  to  the  Epicurean  maxim, 
*'  Let  us  eat  and  drink,  for  to-morrow  we  die." 

In  truth,  that  which  was  dying  was  the  empire  itself, 
in  spite  of  its  wealth  and  luxury.  It  had  ceased  to 
produce,  and  had  become  a  consumer  only.  It  lived 
by  conquest  and  slavery,  and  its  citizens  ate  more  and 
more  the  bread  of  idleness.  The  land,  once  so  fertile 
in  harvests  and  in  men,  saw  depopulation  following 
close  on  the  impoverishment  of  the  soil.  Celibacy  had 
become  nothing  less  than  a  national  calamity.  The 
rich  man  had  no  desire  for  the  burdens  of  a  family, 
and,  being  childless,  he  was  surrounded  by  a  tribe  of 
courtesans,  who,  in  their  eagerness  to  be  remembered 
in  his  will,  loaded  him  with  presents,  and  cost  him  far 
more  than  children  would  have  done.  Thus,  merely  in 
the    light    of   self-preservation,    it    is    suicidal    for   any 


380  THE    EARLY   CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

society  to  live  merely  for  the  gratification  of  the  senses, 
since  it  thus  sacrifices  not  only  the  object  of  life,  but 
the  means  of  subsistence. 

The  amelioration  which  we  have  noted  in  the  legisla- 
tion of  the  empire  had  not  changed  the  fundamental 
principle  of  pagan  society.  Legal  right  was  still  a 
matter  of  privilege,  as  we  shall  have  occasion  to  show 
when  we  come  to  speak  of  the  Christian  as  compared 
with  the  pagan  family.  The  oneness  of  the  human 
race  remained  a  beautiful  theory  or  a  sublime  antici- 
pation, but  practically,  inequality  still  prevailed,  an 
inequality  accepted  and  sanctioned  by  all  the  institutions 
of  the  empire.  Not  only  was  the  condition  of  the 
slaves  unchanged,  in  spite  of  some  technical  ameliora- 
tions of  the  law,  but  the  social  inequality  between 
freemen  had  become  even  more  pronounced.  In  the 
time  of  the  republic  the  supreme  magistracies  were 
elective  :  the  citizens  possessed  the  dignity  and  inde- 
pendence of  freemen.  Under  the  empire  the  supreme 
authority  was  raised  to  such  a  height  of  power  that 
men  could  only  cringe  before  it ;  and  the  proud 
aristocracy  of  the  world,  stooping  to  so  servile  an 
attitude,  dishonoured  in  itself  the  dignity  of  man,  as 
Tacitus  has  nobly  said,  to  a  degree  hitherto  unknown. 
The  imperial  apotheosis  might  be,  in  the  time  of 
Augustus,  a  form  of  patriotism  in  a  people  accustomed 
by  the  religion  of  the  hearth  to  deify  its  ancestors  ; 
but  when  such  honour  was  done  to  monsters  and 
fools,  and  still  more  when,  in  the  extravagance  of 
flattery  or  of  terror,  it  was  granted  by  anticipation  to 
such  wretches  as  Caligula,  Commodus,  or  Heliogabalus, 


PAGAN    FAMILY   LIFE.  38 1 

humanity  itself  was  outraged  and  degraded."  The  im- 
perial court,  with  its  hierarchy  of  the  friends  of  Caesar, 
was  an  instance  of  senseless  folly  without  a  parallel. t 

If  all  the  Romans  were  thus  reduced  before  the 
emperor  to  an  equality  of  servitude,  the  old  aristocracy 
sought  compensation  in  contempt  for  the  lower  orders. 
Never  was  the  line  between  patrician  and  plebeian  more 
sharply  drawn  ;  never  were  social  distinctions  more 
strictly  observed ;  never,  practically,  were  the  inequalities 
so  many  and  so  great.  The  freedmen  and  the  provincials 
were  held  in  slight  esteem.  The  senator,  forgetting 
that  he  was  the  first  valet  of  the  empire,  crushed  with 
his  scorn  all  who  were  not  of  noble  origin. 

That  which  particularly  strikes  us  in  the  second  cen- 
tury is  the  growing  subserviency  of  the  third  estate, 
that  which  came  next  to  the  knights.  This  order,  after 
it  had  secured  political  rights  with  its  tribunes,  and  had 
shown  itself  to  be  the  sinew  of  the  Roman  legion,  had 
played  an  important  part  in  the  history  of  the  republic. 
The  empire,  not  content  with  taking  away  its  right  of 
suffrage,  lowered  it  yet  further  to  the  condition  of  a  mere 
mercenary  body,  passing  its  time  in  turbulent  indolence, 
the  dangers  of  which  could  only  be  averted  by  costly 
largesses  and  the  exciting  pleasures  of  the  circus.  Those 
members  of  the  third  estate  who  were  the  dependants  of 
patrician  families,  could  as  yet  dispense  with  the  dole  of 
public  money,  thanks  to  the  sportula  which  they  earned 
by  the  daily  obeisance  paid  to  their  patrons.  But  they 
were  not  to  be  long  distinguished  from  the  lower  class 
of  the  same  order,  composed  of  freedmen  and  the  poor  of 
every  sort. 

*  Boissier,  "La  religion  Romaine,"  i.  c  2. 
t  Friedlander,  "  Moeurs  Romaines,"  i.  c.  3. 


382  THE    EARLY   CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

Soon  it  was  not  enough  to  despise  these  petty  people  ; 
they  must  no  longer  expect  equality  in  the  eye  of  the 
law.  Those  among  them  whose  names  were  inscribed 
on  the  public  registers  to  receive  the  distribution  of  corn, 
composed  the  plebs  of  the  city  :  their  number  was  com- 
puted in  the  reign  of  Augustus  at  200,000.  They  were 
not  allowed  any  appeal  to  justice  if  they  found  them- 
selves defrauded.  The  distinction  became  constantly 
more  marked  between  the  honestiores  and  the  humiliores. 
The  latter  could  not  hold  any  office,  and  they  alone 
were  liable  to  bodily  punishment  and  to  the  torture  of 
the  cross.  Legal  incapacity  was  the  condition  not  only 
of  the  wretches  who  sought  dishonest  gains,  but  of  all 
the  poor — propter  paupertatem.*  It  followed  that  poverty 
was  in  itself  a  cause  for  indignity.  It  is  clear  that  any 
slight  amelioration  in  the  lot  of  the  slaves  was  fully 
counterbalanced  by  this  growing  degradation  of  the 
lower  classes.  Nothing  could  show  more  decisively 
how  powerless  was  the  philosophy  of  the  Stoics,  how 
powerless  were  the  emperor-philosophers  themselves,  to 
restore  the  true  idea  of  humanity  and  that  equality  of 
rights  which  is  its  primary  result.  The  degenerate 
Christianity  of  later  ages  was,  in  its  turn,  to  connive  at 
this  system  of  privilege  and  of  inequality,  but  this  was 
in  direct  contraversion  of  its  own  principles,  and  of  the 
noblest  traditions  of  its  origin. 

The  great  minds,  to  which  we  give  no  niggardly  meed 
of  admiration,  showed  themselves  equally  unable  to  re- 
form either  the  theory  or  the  practice  of  their  day. 
What  they  did  was  to   make  their  beneficial  influence 

*  See  "Memoire  de  M.  Duruy  sur  la  Ibrma'.ion  historique  des  deux 
classes  de  citoyens  Romains  de'signes  dans  les  Pandectes  sous  le  nom  d'hon- 
nestiores  et  d'humiliores.     Appendix  to  vol.  v.  of  "  rHistoire  des  Remains." 


PAGAN    FAMILY    LIFE.  383 

felt   by  the  elect  souls  who  gathered  around  them,  and 
as  the  result  of  this  influence  we  find  some  noble  types 
of  disinterested  virtue,  and  some  homes  of  severe  purity. 
More  than  this  we  have  no  right  to  ask.     They  were 
met  by  invincible  obstacles  in  the  way  of  anything  like 
a   general   regeneration  of  the  family    and  of    private 
life.     The  extravagant  luxury  of  the  Romans  may  be 
called  in  question.  It  may  be  shown  that  it  did  not  cost 
such   enormous  sums  as  is   usually  supposed.*     Self- 
indulgence  was  cheaper  and  easier  under  the  bright  sky 
of  Italy  than  in  our  country  and  with  our  modern  civili- 
sation.    At  less  outlay  the    Roman  aristocracy  could 
achieve  an  easy  existence  of  sensuous  delights.   Slavery 
under  the  empire  offered  facilities  to  debauch  such  as 
have  never  been  found  since ;  the  beautiful  maidens  of 
Greece  and  Asia  Minor,  bought  at  small  cost  or  reared 
in  the  home    of  their   masters,  furnished  the    dancing 
girls  and  players  on  the  lyre,  who  formed  a  feature  of 
even  modest    entertainments.       Sensual   pictures,    the 
work  of  facile  and  elegant  artists,  covered  the  unpre- 
tending walls  of  the  little  town  house  or  suburban  villa; 
there  was  no  great  cost  in  attending  the  theatre,  to  wit- 
ness the  representation  of  the  most  voluptuous  scenes  of 
Greco-Roman   mythology.     It  is   enough    to  read  the 
books  of  amusement  in  which  this  generation  delighted 
to  judge  of  its  morality.     The  surest  way  to  please  was 
to  describe   it  to  itself.    Thus  we  learn  to  know  it,  not 
only  in  what  may  be  called  its  historical  scandals,  but  in 
the  every-day  life  of  its  common  people. 

We  will  not  quote  from  the  great  detractors  of  their 
age,  like   Juvenal,  whose   indignation   has   made  them 

See  the  curious  chapter  on  this  subject  in  Friedlander.     Vol. 


ni.  I. 


384  THE    EARLY   CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

orators,  and  who  cannot  forget  their  rhetoric  in  their  ob- 
jurgations. We  will  consult  the  authors  who  seek  only 
to  amuse  their  readers,  and  in  whose  writings  we  shall 
find  pagan  society  graphically  pourtrayed  in  all  the 
varieties  of  life  in  town  and  country,  with  its  medley  of 
freedmen,  gladiators,  courtesans,  court  minions,  and 
charlatan  priests. 

The  "  Golden  Ass"  of  Apuleius  carries  us  in  the  train 
of  the  unhappy  Lucius,  as  he  undergoes  his  humiliating 
metamorphoses,  into  the  hovels  and  pleasant  villas,  into 
the  small  towns  and  villages.  Everywhere  we  find  liber- 
tinism defiling  the  domestic  hearth — the  wife  unfaithful 
to  her  duties;  lawless  sensuality  indulged  without  scruple 
and  described  in  glowing  language  ;  unnatural  crimes 
accepted  as  matters  of  course,  and  treated  rather  as  sub- 
jects for  ridicule  than  for  rebuke.  Over  all  this  impure 
world  hovers  a  vague  dread  of  the  unknown,  w^hich 
impels  it  to  all  sorts  of  superstitions,  especially  to  those 
derived  from  the  East,  and  to  the  use  of  magical  arts. 

The  veiled  goddess  who  is  the  object  of  universal 
adoration  is  the  Egyptian  Isis,  resembling  in  every 
respect  the  Diana  of  the  Ephesians,  or  the  Cybele  of 
Asia  Minor,  whose  priests  act  an  abominable  part  in 
the  romance  of  Apuleius.  It  is  ever  the  great  mother, 
Nature,  who  is  worshipped  in  her  power  of  life  and 
reproduction.  Sensuality  is  her  worship,  and  magic 
her  mystery.  On  the  one  hand,  she  is  besought  to 
pour  forth  from  her  inexhaustible  bosom  the  flood  of 
sensual  pleasures,  and  as  the  lawful  limit  of  these  en- 
joyments is  quickly  attained,  the  worshippers  fling  them- 
selves eagerly  into  those  excesses  which  seem  to  prolong 
them ;  on   the   other  hand,  they  would  conciliate  the 


PAGAN    FAMILY    LIFE.  385 

hidden  powers  by  charms  and  sorceries,  and  by  thus 
parodying  the  supernatural,  satisfy  the  imagination, 
and  allay  that  craving  for  more  than  mortal  aid  which 
can  never  be  wholly  subdued  in  our  frail  humanity. 
This  divinity  with  a  hundred  names,  in  which  the 
efforts  of  paganism  culminate  as  they  began,  this  per- 
sonification of  natural  and  sensual  life,  has  no  longer 
anything  in  common  with  the  charming  nymph,  born 
of  the  sea-foam  beneath  a  smile  of  the  sun,  who,  in  her 
proud  and  ideal  beauty,  might  be  almost  the  image  of 
purity.  The  Greek  Venus  is  become,  as  at  Ephesus, 
the  black  goddess  of  a  thousand  breasts,  the  monstrous 
giantess  whose  embrace,  as  runs  the  legend,  is  death  to 
the  old  insatiable  world. 

Saevior  arm  is 
Luxuria  incubuit  victumque  ulsciscitur  orbem. 

This  lust,  which  consumes  the  triumphant  empire,  is 
the  vengeance  of  Astarte  on  the  Roman  eagles. 

There  was  an  era  in  history  when  this  fury  of  de- 
bauch and  crime  became  a  sort  of  demoniacal  possession, 
which  left  on  the  Christian  imagination  an  impression 
of  horror  and  alarm,  lasting  through  many  centuries. 
It  was  under  Nero  that  Rome  was  named  the  Babylon 
of  the  West,  making  herself  drunk  with  the  blood  of  the 
saints,  after  having  poured  out  for  all  nations  the  cup  of 
her  iniquities.  The  "  Satyricon  "  of  Petronius  preserves 
for  us  the  faithful  picture  of  the  Rome  of  this  age,  so 
much  the  more  repulsive  that  it  is  drawn  with  all  the 
minute  care  of  the  artist.  We  shall  not  indeed  venture 
to  say  that  this  tissue  of  vile  stories  reproduces  the  ge- 
neral life  of  the  period,  for  we  know  how  many  pure 
and  noble  characters  shone  out  against  the  dark  back- 


386  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

ground.  Yet  it  is  very  significant  that  such  a  fiction 
should  have  pleased  the  court  and  the  city  :  it  proves 
at  least  that  high  Roman  society  loved  to  trail  imagina- 
tion in  the  mire,  and  from  this  the  transition  is  very 
short  to  indulgence  in  the  same  vices.  Like  Messalina, 
this  wealthy  and  elegant  world  delights  in  frequenting, 
at  least  in  imagination,  the  haunts  of  the  lowest  sensual 
indulgence.  This  is  the  kind  of  satisfaction  it  derives 
from  Petronius,  and  it  was  particularly  relished  by  its 
mad  Caesar.  The  "  Satyricon  "  m.ight  well  be  the  pastime 
of  the  base  and  effeminate  imperial  artist,  who  placed 
all  his  powers  at  the  disposal  of  his  licentious  imagi- 
nation and  equally  perverted  senses.  Comedian  and 
coachman  at  once,  he  takes  equal  delight  in  the  society 
of  the  stable  or  of  men  of  letters,  and  blends  in  his 
\.  ritings  poetical  myths  with  orgies  that  beggar  descrip- 
tion. -  Petronius  suits  him  exactly;  his  book  is  that  of 
a  fine  \\  it  and  of  a  debauchee  ;  his  only  fault  is  that 
he  is  too  subtle  for  an  artist  like  Nero,  who  succeeded 
only  in  the  tragedy  of  real  life,  and  could  better  repro- 
duce in  actual  fact , the  burning  of  Troy  than  he  could 
sing  it  to  the  lyre.  That  such  a  book  as  the  "Satyricon" 
could  have  been  received  by  the  great  Roman  world,  is 
the  most  complete  proof  of  its  hopeless  corruption. 

After  all,  that  which  it  depicts  is  not  imaginary.  The 
love  which  it  describes  is  that  which  then  prevailed — a 
love  of  the  senses,  knowing  neither  modesty  nor  true 
passion,  and  sparing  neither  the  maiden  in  her  bloom, 
the  wife  beneath  her  husband's  roof,  the  great  lady  or 
the  humble  servant,  childhood  or  old  age.  We  find 
ourselves  in  a  sink  of  vice,  among  innkeepers,  water- 
men, actors  of  all  sorts,  who  composed  in  great  part 


PAGAN    FAMILY   LIFE.  387 

the  lower  classes  of  imperial  Rome,  and  for  whom  it 
was  necessary  to  provide  degrading  spectacles,  exciting 
either  by  their  licentiousness  or  cruelty.  We  are 
brought  into  contact  with  that  humiliating  struggle 
for  the  possession  of  dead  men's  goods,  which  was  one 
of  the  features  of  the  age.  The  luxurious  but  miserable 
life  of  the  freedmen  who  had  acquired  wealth  appears 
in  all  its  moral  hideousness,  as  the  picture  looks  down 
on  us  from  its  frame  of  gold ;  and  we  thus  learn  how 
those,  who  but  as  yesterday  bore  the  yoke  themselves, 
make  it  heavy  for  their  old  companions  in  bondage. 
We  are  taken  into  the  abodes  of  the  slaves,  and  are 
initiated  into  their  sufferings  and  their  vile  recreations. 
The  dominant  feature  of  the  "  Satyricon,"  in  spite  of  its 
literary  elegances,  is  lawless  bestiality.  It  goes  far  to 
help  us  to  comprehend  the  expressive  symbol  of  the 
Beast  of  the  Apocalypse,  the  faithful  but  repulsive 
image  of  this  people,  without  soul,  without  conscience, 
sunk  in  the  mire,  and  living  only  to  feed,  to  play,  and  to 
kill. 

The  grandeur  of  the  imperial  city  did  not  cloak  its 
abominations  in  the  eyes  of  the  disciples  of  the  gospel. 
From  the  time  of  its  rebuilding  by  Nero,  who  used  the 
fire  as  giving  him  a  sort  of  expropriatory  right  for 
the  public  embellishment,  the  city  offered  much  that 
was  attractive  to  the  eye.  Where  to-day  the  dead  plain 
stretches  its  mournful  pall  over  the  landscape  were 
then  gay  villas  and  innumerable  palaces,  temples  which 
were  museums,  a  forest  of  statues,  the  Forum  covered 
with  majestic  buildings,  the  baths  and  the  Coliseum, 
the  procession  of  great  ladies  carried  through  the 
streets,  attended  by  a  brilliant  train  of  elegant  aristo- 

26  -^ 


388  THE    EARLY   CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

cracy.  All  these  things  attested  the  splendour  and 
luxury  of  the  imperial  city.  But  to  the  Christian  they 
were  all  redolent  of  the  apotheosis  of  idolatry,  and  he 
knew  too  well  that  in  more  than  one  quarter  of  the 
city  its  vilest  excesses  were  indulged  under  the  full 
light  of  day.  He  heard  from  afar  the  fierce  shouts  of 
the  crowd  assembled  on  the  steps  of  the  theatre,  and 
he  knew  that  they  were  aroused,  either  by  the  most 
immoral  scenic  representations,  by  bloody  games,  or 
by  the  agony  of  his  brethren  in  the  faith.  None  could 
be  ignorant,  moreover,  of  the  scenes  which  transpired 
within  the  portico  of  villa  and  palace.  How  could  the 
soul  of  the  Christian  at  Rome  but  be  stirred  wdthin  him, 
and  with  even  deeper  cause  than  that  which  moved  the 
great  Apostle  of  the  Gentiles  as  he  stood,  for  the  first 
time,  on  the  Areopagus  of  Athens  ? 

If  we  leave  Rome,  which,  as  Tacitus  has  said,  was 
the  confluence  of  all  the  vices  of  .the  empire ;  if  we 
turn  away  from  the  somewhat  highly-coloured  pictures 
of  Petronius,  which,  while  they  are  not  fictitious,  do 
give  us  the  worst  side  of  Roman  life,  we  still  find  the 
same  prevailing  corruption,  though  in  a  less  degree. 
Let  us  enter  that  little  city  which  has  arisen,  all  living 
before  our  eyes,  from  its  bed  of  ashes.  There  is  no- 
thing exceptional  about  Pompeii  but  its  enchanting 
site.  There  can  be  few  such  relics  of  Eden  upon 
earth,  but  the  floods  which  overw^helm  it  are  often  ter- 
rible. Greece  has  slopes  as  graceful,  but  the  outlines 
are  more  firmly  defined ;  they  might  have  been  de- 
signed by  the  grand  genius  of  Phidias,  while  here  we 
are  reminded  rather  of  the  chisel  of  Praxiteles.  It  is 
on  these  Neapoltian  shores  that  the  religion  of  nature 


PAGAN    FAMILY    LIFE.  389 

has  found  its  chosen  sanctuary,  here  that  it  displays  its 
highest  gloiy.  Vesuvius,  with  its  crown  of  smoke, 
has  the  same  effect  as  that  statue  of  death  which  was 
often  placed  in  the  festal  banqueting-house,  to  enhance 
the  mirth  of  the  guests  by  the  force  of  its  sombre  con- 
trast, and  to  bid  them,  with  the  poet,  grasp  the  fleeting 
pleasure,  as  a  flower  that  would  all  too  quickly  fade. 
When  we  complete  that  which  is  still  to  be  seen  at 
Pompeii  by  the  aid  of  the  masterpieces  preserved  in  the 
museum  at  Naples,  we  have  the  perfect  picture  of  the 
paganism  of  the  Decline,  as  it  was  exhibited  in  the 
ordinary  life  of  the  people. 

Death  entered  this  city  as  suddenly  as  the  thief  in 
the  Gospel  parable  :  there  was  not  a  moment  to  prepare 
for  the  awful  catastrophe.  Pompeii  is  here,  before  our 
eyes,  just  as  it  was  on  the  day  of  its  entombment.  We 
note  at  once  the  injurious  influence  exerted  upon  the 
manners  of  the  people  by  the  travesty  of  religion  which 
then  prevailed.  The  place  of  honour  is  given  to  the 
divinities  of  the  second  order,  especially  to  those  patrons 
of  pleasure,  Bacchus  and  Venus.  On  the  new  Olympus 
voluptuousness  reigns  supreme.  It  has  no  place  for  the 
Jupiter  of  Homer,  who,  passionate  as  he  is,  has  gleams 
of  justice  and  grandeur,  like  the  Greece  of  the  heroic 
age.  Still  less  shall  we  find  there  the  Jupiter  whose 
noble  image,  purified  by  philosophy,  was  sculptured 
by  Phidias — "  the  great  immortal,  whom  the  blessed 
sing,"  according  to  Pindar's  verse.  The  goddess  of 
last,  the  god  of  wine — these  are  the  favourite  divini- 
ties of  this  purely  sensuous  worship.  The  Neapolitan 
Venus  is  not  the  Venus  of  Milo,  that  Madonna  of  an- 
tique   art :    she  is  a  courtesan.     The  marble  throbs ; 


390  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

Pygmalion  has  made  his  statue  glow  with  the  impure 
fire  which  consumes  his  own  soul.  The  Pompeian 
Bacchus  in  no  way  recals  the  mysteries  celebrated 
under  the  name  of  that  god,  and  which  had  a  deep 
meaning.  He  is  purely  and  simply  the  god  of  the 
bacchanals,  crowned  with  vine-leaves.  The  grand  old 
mythology  is  sacrificed  to  piquant  anecdote.  Venus 
weeping  the  Death  of  Adonis,  Diana  admiring  En- 
dymion  or  chastising  Acteon,  Leda  and  her  Swan, 
the  Rape  of  Europa,  the  Desertion  of  Ariadne — these 
are  the  subjects  chosen  by  preference  in  the  Pompeian 
frescoes,  and  treated  sometimes  with  graceful  lightness, 
but  sometimes  also  with  startling  immodesty.  This 
sort  of  delineation  everywhere  takes  the  place  of  high 
art.  These  pictures  reproduce  again  and  again  the 
combats  of  the  gladiators,  thus  pandering  to  one  of  the 
fiercest  passions  of  a  voluptuous  and  cruel  age,  and 
reminding  us  that  a  mind  enervated  by  pleasure  can 
only  find  the  stimulant  it  craves  in  sanguinary  spec- 
tacles. The  slave,  bowed  down  beneath  heavy  burdens, 
occupies  a  large  place  in  these  realistic  frescoes.  Im- 
pure gods,  gladiators,  and  slaves — were  not  these  the 
three  pillars  upon  which  this  corrupt  society  rested  ? 
The  little  temple  of  Isis  speaks  at  once  of  the  growing 
intrusion  of  Oriental  modes  of  worship,  and  of  the 
fusion  of  the  ancient  beliefs  in  a  pantheistic  naturalism. 
That  of  which  Pompeii  gives  us  the  most  striking 
exhibition,  is  the  interior  of  the  pagan  house  and  its 
domestic  life.  Nothing  could  be  more  unlike  a  family 
home  than  these  charming  dwellings.  All  the  arrange- 
ments suggest  elegant  leisure  and  sumptuous  repasts 
spread    for  convivial  guests.     There  is    no  inner  life. 


PAGAN    FAMILY    LIFE.  39 1 

The  frescoes  which  cover  the  walls  reveal  to  us  what 
was  the  frivolous  existence  in  this  little  city,  which  was 
in  no  way  an  exceptional  one.  We  find  ourselves  in- 
troduced to  the  toilet  of  a  great  Roman  lady,  sur- 
rounded by  slaves,  on  whom  her  caprice  inflicts  any 
degree  of  punishment.  We  can  count  the  vases  of 
perfumed  unguents  with  which  she  mars  her  beauty. 
We  are  present  at  the  feast,  with  its  h'centious  free- 
dom. The  dancing  girls  are  before  us  in  their  fatal 
grace.  We  can  even  pass  behind  the  scenes  in  the 
theatre,  and  see  the  preparations  for  the  piece,  and 
enter  the  apartment  of  the  poet  who  is  reciting  his 
latest  verses.  Exquisite  art — though  at  Pompeii  it  was 
imitative  rather  than  creative — has  lent  its  aid  to  em^- 
bellish  these  pleasure-villas  of  a  moderate  bourgeoisie. 
For  these  were  sculptured  the  dancing  fauns,  with 
their  suppleness  of  limb  and  perfection  of  pose  ;  the 
little  Narcissus  of  such  delicate  grace,  and  the  weary 
Mercury— the  very  embodiment  of  nonchalance  and  las- 
situde ;  for  these  houses,  modest  in  comparison  with 
the  palaces  of  the  aristocracy,  were  painted  those  en- 
chanting frescoes  which  represent  the  most  touching 
episodes  of  the  Odyssey  or  of  Greek  tragedy.  Art  ex- 
tended its  domain  in  every  direction.  The  plainest 
domestic  utensils  received  an  elegant  form  :  lamps, 
pottery,  jewels,  all  bore  the  same  stamp.  It  is  evident 
that  the  pagan  of  this  period  would  have  all  his  senses 
gratified  at  once. 

We  find  also  in  Pompeii  numerous  traces  of  that 
fever  of  sensuality  which  was  reaching  its  crisis.  The 
pencil  which  depicted  the  most  vile  and  licentious 
scenes  had  the  same  graceful   lightness   as  the   pen  of 


392  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

Petronius.  The  frescoes  of  Pompeii  reproduce  in  warm 
and  vivid  colouring  the  most  abominable  scenes  from 
the  "  Satyricon,"  and  we  recognise  in  them  that  fearful 
perversion  of  nature  which  was  the  consequence  and 
the  punishment  of  unbridled  sensuality.  The  appalling 
description  given  of  it  by  St.  Paul  in  his  epistle  to  the 
Christians  of  Rome,  is  fully  justified  by  these  pictures, 
which,  obscene  as  they  are  in  subject,  show  in  the 
manner  of  their  execution  all  the  faithfulness  of  the 
skilled  artist.  It  must  not  then  be  pretended  that 
Juvenal,  Petronius,  and  Lucian  "-alumniated  their  age. 
This  infamous  side  always  exists  m  pagan  life  wherever 
it  is  not  lifted  above  itself;  and  the  fact  that  these 
writers  dared  to  drag  it  into  the  broad  light  of  day 
proves  the  depth  of  the  social  corruption.  A  genera- 
tion which  can  no  longer  blush  is  in  open  insurrection 
against  the  first  principles  of  universal  morality. 

This  degradation  is  explained  by  the  philosophical 
literature  which  was  affected  at  Pompeii.  The  onl}^ 
papyri  which  have  been  exhumed  are  Epicurean  trea- 
tises belonging  to  that  corrupt  school,  which  must  have 
brought  more  certain  ruin  upon  the  city  than  the  molten 
lava  of  Vesuvius.  Doubtless,  Epicureanism  encoun- 
tered at  this  time  a  noble  and  powerful  adversary  in 
the  philosophy  of  Seneca,  of  Epictetus,  and  Marcus 
Aurelius.  We  have  done  justice  to  their  high-souled 
efforts,  to  the  advance  made  in  the  legislation  by  means 
of  teaching,  and  to  the  purifying  influences  exerted  by 
it  over  an  enlightened  minority,  which  certainly  rose  to 
the  grandest  moral  elevation  ever  attained  by  any  sons 
of  paganism.  Yet  it  is  none  the  less  true  that  Stoicism 
could  go  no  further,   and   that  it  was  content  to  shake 


PAGAN    FAMILY    LIFE.  393 

off  the  dust  of  its  feet  against  a  world  which  it  could 
not  reform  ;  it  v  r  ipped  itself  in  its  mantle,  to  die  erect; 
but  it  could  not  raise  public  morality  from  its  fallen 
state. 

There  was  a  faith  more  full  and  living  which  was  yet 
to  make  the  lily  of  spotless  purity  blossom  on  this  dung- 
hill, and  to  show  itself  more  powerful,  not  only  than 
the  despotism  of  the  Caesars,  but  than  the  siren  of 
these  southern  seas — the  last  and  mightiest  of  the  pagan 
divinities.  This  great  reform,  which  was  at  once  to 
broaden  and  humanise  the  ancient  law,  and  to  sanctify 
all  the  relations  of  life,  was  wrought  without  observa- 
tion in  the  Christian  home.  There  was  lighted  the 
sacred  fire  of  the  new  city,  never  to  be  overthrown. 


394  THE    EARLY   CHRISTIAN    CHURCH, 


CHAPTER    II. 

CHRISTIANITY   AND    THE    FAMILY. 

It  would  be  misleading  and  untrue  to  history  if  we 
were  to  represent  the  life  of  the  Christians  as. in  abso- 
lute contrast  with  that  of  the  pagans.  Man  is  a  frail 
being,  ever  open  to  evil  influences,  and  only  realising 
in  a  very  imperfect  manner  his  own  ideal.  The  Church 
often  had  occasion  to  weep  over  the  weak  desertion 
of  her  sons  in  days  of  persecution,  and  in  the  rare  in- 
tervals of  peace  and  tranquillity  she  suffered  no  less 
from  the  prevailing  laxity  of  manners,  from  the  intrusion 
of  frivolous  worldliness,  and  from  the  influence  of 
wealthy  women  who  still  hankered  after  their  former 
style  of  living  ;  sometimes  also  from  rivalries  among 
her  adherents,  who  contended  for  the  honour  of  filling 
her  as  yet  humble  offtces.  In  spite  of  these  im- 
perfections, however,  the  Christian  principle  was  so 
grand,  so  powerful,  that  it  went  on  winning  conquests 
over  the  hearts  of  men  and  radically  transforming  the 
whole  moral  life.  But  while  it  thus  introduced  a  new 
element,  it  proved  itself  entirely  in  harmony  with  the 
general  laws  of  the  human  conscience ;  it  made  no  ec- 
centric or  conventional  demands  ;  it  appealed  only  to 
the  immortal  and  universal  rule  of  duty  as  it  is  written 
in  the  depths  of  our  being,  seeking  to  free  it  from  erro- 


CHRISTIANITY   AND    THE    FAMILY.  395 

neous  admixture,  and  to  give  it  applications  hitherto 
untried,  but  which  were  its  logical  results.  The  virtue 
in  which  such  men  as  Socrates,  Zeno,  and  Marcus 
Aurelius  had  gloried  was  neither  repudiated  nor  ignored; 
it  was  but  enlarged  and  freed  from  all  that  rendered  it 
exclusive,  proud,  and  powerless.  In  the  disciples  of 
the  new  faith  this  virtue  shone  out  pre-eminently.  Thus 
its  apologists  plead  at  the  bar  of  universal  conscience, 
and  seek  no  other  verdict  in  its  favour;  their  cause 
would  be  lost  if  they  had  to  contend  for  two  codes  of 
morality,  two  kinds  of  virtue. 

The  reform  at  which  Christianitv  aimed  began  in  the 
family.  It  had  this  two-fold  object:  in  the  first  place, 
to  humanise  in  some  sort  the  legal  right  based  upon 
privilege,  by  placing  all  mankind  on  the  same  moral 
level ;  and,  in  the  second  place,  to  restore  purity  to  the 
domestic  hearth.  The  natural  affections  would  not 
have  sufficed  for  this  two-fold  reform,  because  they  are 
always  more  or  less  selfish.  Love  needs  to  be  animated 
by  a  Divine  breath  in  order  to  treat  weakness  as  a  title 
to  respect,  and  to  refuse  ever  to  make  an  immortal 
being  the  victim  of  force  or  the  tool  of  pleasure.  We 
have  seen  how  the  first  generation  of  converts  made 
some  approach  to  the  ideal  of  the  Christian  family,  as 
St.  Paul  conceived  it.  The  great  apostle,  while  main- 
taining the  natural  and  necessary  hierarchy  in  the 
family,  enjoined  the  husband  to  temper  his  lawful  au- 
thority by  a  respectful  tenderness  towards  the  weaker  sex. 
Christian  marriage  he  made  a  type  of  the  mystical  union 
between  Christ  and  the  Church,  w^hich  is  the  highest 
realisation  of  Divine  love  upon  earth  ;  and  the  weak- 
ness of  childhood  was  entrusted  to  the  tenderness  of  the 


396  THE   EARLY   CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

father,  who  has  for  his  pattern  the  Father  of  mercies, 
revealed  to  us  in  the  gospel.  Lastly,  without  provoking 
any  sudden  social  revolution,  Christianity  declared  the 
slave,  as  the  freedman  of  Christ,  to  be  the  equal  of  his 
master  in  the  sight  of  God,  before  whom  both  must 
appear  as  their  common  Judge  and  the  Avenger  of  the 
oppressed.  Paul  gave  bold  expression  to  this  principle 
of  equality  in  the  words,  "  In  Christ  there  is  neither 
Jew  nor  Greek,  male  nor  female,  bond  nor  free."  *  We 
know  with  what  vehemence  he  denounced  and  combated 
the  vices  of  pagan  life,  and  demanded  on  the  part  of 
Christians  the  most  scrupulous  purity.  He  thus  formed 
what  he  justly  called  the  Church  in  the  house,  the 
family  being  a  truly  religious  association  founded  upon 
Divine  love. 

We  must  now  consider  what  it  became  in  the  fol- 
lowing age,  when  the  new  religion  came  into  open  con- 
test with  the  old  world  of  privilege  and  inequality.! 

The  moral  equality  needed  first  of  all  to  be  estab- 
lished in  the  marriage  relation,  which  was  so  galling  a 
yoke  for  the  pagan  woman.  This  equality  could  be 
assured  without  in  any  way  destroying  the  rightful  su- 
premacy of  the  husband  as  the  head  of  the  household. 
The  Church  recognises  the  duty  of  the  wife  to  submit 
to  her  husband  in  everything  which  does  not  involve 
disobedience  to  the  yet  higher  authority  of  God  Him- 
self. Thus  lawful  subordination  and  necessary  inde- 
pendence rest  on  the  same  foundation.     The  difference 

*  Gal.  iii.  28. 

t  See  on  this  subject,  beside  the  works  quoted,  M.  Paul  Gide's  excel- 
lent book  :  "  Etude  sur  la  condition  privee  de  la  femme  dans  le  droit  ancien 
et  moderne,  et  en  particulicr  sur  le  senatus-consulte  Velleien,"  Memoire 
couronne  par  I'lnstitut.      Paris,  1867. 


CHRISTIANITY   AND    THE    FAMILY.  397 

of  the  sexes  is  an  ordinance  of  creation,  and  the  apos- 
toHc  precept,  that  the  man  is  to  be  the  head  of  the 
woman,  is  in  accordance  with  the  teaching  of  nature. 
Women  are  not  called  to  exercise  the  arts  of  the  war- 
rior; they  are  called  to  fill  their  place  in  the  home.* 
Nevertheless  they  have  all  the  rights  of  an  immortal 
soul,  made  in  the  image  of  God  and  for  His  service. 
While  the  pagan  wife  was  bound  to  hold  good  all  that  her 
husband  said,  even  if  it  was  in  itself  bad,  the  Christian 
wife  carries  her  submission  only  to  the  point  at  which 
a  higher  authority  supervenes,  for  her  first  duty  is  to 
obey  God.  If  that  which  her  husband  commands  her 
is  evil,  she  is  bound  to  resist  him,  cost  what  it  may, 
after  the  example  of  the  woman  of  whom  Justin  Martyr 
tells  us,  who,  being  united  to  a  vile  husband,  brought 
most  harsh  and  cruel  treatment  upon  herself,  and  per- 
secution upon  her  brothers,  because  she  would  not 
yield  to  his  infamous  requirements,  t  By  thus  using 
the  non  possunius  of  the  Christian  conscience  the  weakest 
woman  can  assert  her  inalienable  dignity. 

The  principle  of  moral  equality  between  the  man  and 
woman  was  affirmed  by- the  Christians  as  it  had  never 
been  before.  *'  The  man  and  woman,"  says  Clement  of 
Alexandria,  "have  the  same  destiny,  and  are  bound  to 
aim  at  the  sarrie  standard  of  perfection,"!  The  weaker 
sex  gave  to  Israel  as  many  heroines  and  holy  women  as 
valiant  servants  of  God  :  paganism  itself  strove  in  vain 
to  deprive  woman  of  her  dignity,  for  many  a  Greek  and 
Roman  mother  showed  that  she  had  a  heart  as  valiant 

*  Clement,  *' Strom. "  iv.  8,  62.  f  Justin,  "  Apol.'-'ii.  2.^ 

X  TatiTi]Q  Toi  TrJQ  TsXHonjrog  i^ioriv  eV  'taqg  /.ih'  dvdpi  in  'iarjg  de  kul 
yt  uuiK,  iJ.er:-Xa€tli>.      Clement,  "  Strom."  iv.    19,120. 


398  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

as  her  son's.  *  There  is  then  no  moral  inequality  be- 
tween the  sexes  in  the  sight  of  God,  whose  judgment 
alone  is  final. 

The  royal  roll  of  martyrdom  shows  the  names  of 
Christian  women  as  well  as  men.  The  wife  could  face 
torture  and  death  no  less  bravely  than  her  husband, 
and  shares  equally  with  him  the  glory  and  the  honour 
that  belong  to  all  who  die  for  liberty  and  virtue. 
Heroism  is  no  monopoly  of  the  masculine  nature ;  it  is 
the  appanage  of  every  noble  soul,  and  confers  its  patent 
of  moral  nobility  on  all  who  show  themselves  capable 
of  it.t  The  martyrdom  thus  bravely  faced  by  women 
means  far  more  than  the  final  death  struggle  in  the 
circus ;  it  includes  also  the  daily  reproach  and  malig- 
nity which  faithfulness  to  Christian  principles  in  the 
family  entails,  when  the  head  of  the  house  is  an  enemy 
to  the  gospel.  I 

''  The  Church,"  says  Clement,  "  is  full  of  faithful  men 
and  women,  who  meditate  constantly  upon  the  saving 
death  of  Christ.  Whoever  fights  under  our  banner  has 
no  need  of  scientific  knowledge  in  order  to  espouse  our 
philosophy.  Whether  barbarian,  slave  or  Greek,  old 
man,  child  or  woman,  our  wisdom  is  open  to  all ;  and 
we  are  agreed  that  human  nature  can  practise  the  same 
virtues  with  the  due  distinction  of  sex."§  Both  man 
and  woman  belong  to  the  same  Christ,  to  the  same 
Church ;  they  share  the  same  physical  and  moral  life, 
look  for  the  same  salvation,  and  partake  equally  in  the 
same  grace    and  Divine    love.||     They  have  the   same 

*  Clement,  "  Strom.,"  i v.  121-125.  f  Ibid.  8,  69.         j  Ibid.  70. 

§   'Ettei^?)  fiiav  Kal  njv  avTtjv  aptri'iv  dvai  rriQ  avTi]Q  (pvaecoQ  crt'/jfff /;kev. 
Ibid.  60.  II  Ibid.  "Predag."!. 


CHRISTIANITY   AND    THE    FAMILY.  399 

human  nature.*  The  rights  of  humanity  in  the  family 
were  thus  established  upon  the  broadest  and  firmest 
basis. 

Christian  principle  is  tested  not  only  in  the  great 
days  of  persecution,  but  in  the  humble  course  of  every- 
day life,  and  in  the  discharge  of  ordinary  domestic 
duties.  There  is  one  rule  of  primary  obligation  upon 
the  Christian  converts — to  marry  only  in  the  Lord.  It 
a  woman  is  converted  to  Christ  after  her  marriage  to  a 
pagan,  she  is  not  permitted  to  leave  him  :  she  is  to  seek 
by  her  gentleness  and  purity  to  win  him  to  the  faith, 
but  is  to  be  firm  in  the  fulfilment  of  her  new  duties. 
The  wise  rule  laid  down  by  St.  Paul  on  this  subject 
remains  in  full  force.  A  certain  latitude  is  even  given 
to  the  wife  who  finds  herself  in  so  difficult  a  position. 
She  is  allowed  to  adorn  herself  more  than  others,  that 
she  may  attract  her  husband,  and  through  her  beauty 
lead  him  to  a  nobler  love,  provided  only  that  she  does 
not  exceed  and  fall  into  evil.t  But  it  is  forbidden,  or 
at  least  strongly  deprecated,  that  a  Christian  woman 
should  marry  a  pagan.  Tertullian  regards  such  an  act 
as  nothing  short  of  apostasy.  How  will  she  be  able  to 
leave  her  husband's  roof,  to  observe  the  worship  of  the 
Church  ?  How  can  she  fulfil  the  various  demands 
of  charity  ?  How  can  she  brave  peril,  to  bring  her 
offerings  to  the  cells  where  the  martyrs  are  languishing, 
to  kiss  their  chains  and  wash  their  feet  ?  Will  she 
not,  moreover,  be  subject  to  all  the  harmful  influence 
of  pagan    life,   with    its    impure   feasts    and   luxurious 

*  Oyfc  a\\i]v  To'ivvv  irpoQ  t))v  dvOpioTroTtjra  (pvaiv  tx^i  rj    yvvi),  a\\i]v  Ik 
avrio  (han'erca.      Clement,  "  Strom."  viii.  4,  60. 
t   I  >:d.  "Pccdag."  iii.  ii,  57. 


400  THE    EARLY   CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

idolatry  ?  Dragged  into  those  scenes  of  pleasure  which 
are  the  hotbeds  of  vice,  she  will  hear  the  songs  of  the 
theatre  instead  of  hymns  and  the  reading  of  holy  books; 
compelled  to  please  her  husband,  she  will  deck  herself  in 
gay  attire,  and  will  be  exposed  to  all  the  allurements 
of  evil.  When  the  poor  Christians  need  succour,  her 
stores  will  be  closed  against  them.  If  she  finds  some 
tolerance  for  her  faith,  the  reason  will  be  that  her 
husband  desires  to  keep  her  in  a  state  of  abject  depen- 
dence, that  he  may  get  possession  of  her  dowry,  or  may 
use  her  as  his  slave,  under  threat  of  denouncing  her  as  a 
Christian.  Surely  open  opposition  would  be  better  than 
this  precarious  tolerance.*  Beneath  such  a  union  there 
must  ever  be  radical  discord,  and  the  end  of  it  must  be 
ruin  to  the  Christian  soul.f  Is  it  not  simply  selling  the 
soul,  if  such  a  marriage  is  contracted  through  desire 
of  wealth,  as  is  the  case  with  numbers  of  women  reared 
in  opulence,  and  shrinking  from  any  lower  social 
position  ?  Yet  is  it  a  poor  bargain  to  exchange  the 
incorruptible  riches  for  the  brilliant  equipages  and 
fleeting  perfumes  of  the  world. J  The  Christian  woman 
who  has  married  a  pagan  has  then  only  herself  to 
blame,  if  she  finds  in  his  house  the  temptations  and  the 
hardships  of  paganism. 

It  did  not  need  legislative  reforms  to  vindicate  for  the 
wife  her  true  position  in  the  Christian  household.  She 
is  secure,  in  the  first  place,  against  the  fragility  of  the 
conjugal  tie,  which  among  pagans  might  be  broken  at 
the    mere   caprice  of  the  husband.     According  to   the 

*   "  Soils  pejoribus  placet  nomea  Christianum."   Tertullian,  "Ad  uxor." 
ii.  7. 

t   "  Omnia  inimica,  omnia  damnata."     Ibid.  6.  +   Ibid.  8. 


CHRISTIANITY   AND    THE    PEOPLE.  40I 

precept  of  Christ,  the  marriage  tie  can  only  be  lawfully 
dissolved  in  case  of  adultery.*  The  Church,  in  spite  of 
a  growing  repugnance,  allows  its  spiritual  directors  a 
certain  latitude  in  judging  of  a  second  marriage  con- 
tracted after  the  dissolution  of  the  first,  for  such  a 
cause. f 

In  spite  of  the  contempt  of  gnostics  and  ascetics, 
marriage  is  regarded  by  the  moderate  party,  who  are  the 
true  representatives  of  Christian  tradition,  as  a  Divine 
institution,  worthy  of  all  respect,  and  perfectly  com- 
patible with  the  law  of  holiness.  J  Children  are  held  to 
be  its  flowers  and  its  crown. § 

Nothing  can  be  more  beautiful  than  a  conjugal 
life,  founded  upon  a  common  faith  and  consecrated 
to  God ;  it  knows  no  rule  but  His  will,  and  finds 
its  happiness  far  more  in  virtue  than  in  wealth  and 
favour. II  "  One  hope,"  says  Tertullian,  "  animates 
husband  and  wife  ;  they  obey  the  same  law  ;  they  serve 
the  same  Master.  Children  of  one  Father,  they  are 
one  flesh   and  one  spirit.     Their  prayers  are  in  com- 

*  Divorce  is  only  allo\Yed  in  case  of  a<:Iulteiy.  "  Ita  si  conditionaliter 
Christus  prohibuit  dimittere  uxorem,  non  in  totum  prohibuit."  Tertullian, 
"Contra  Marc."  xiv.  34.  "Si  inventum  fuerit  in  muliere  negotium  im- 
pudicum. "  Ibid.   The  Church  thus  seeks  to  preserve  the  purity  of  marriage. 

t  In  spite  of  the  severe  judgment  of  "  Pastor  Hernias  "  on  this  point, 
the  Church  did  allow  a  measure  of  tolerance,  as  may  be  inferred  from  the 
ninth  canon  of  the  Council  of  Elvira,  held  in  305,  which  took  a  graver 
view  of  the  case  than  was  held .  in  the  preceding  age.  It  decrees  that  the 
communion  may  be  given  in  time  of  sickness  to  a  woman  who  has  been 
divorced  from  her  husband  on  account  of  his  adultery,  and  who  has  con- 
tracted a  second  marriage.  "  Nisi  forte  necessitas  infirmitatis  dare  com- 
pulerit."  Routh,  "Reliq."iv.  261.  The  Western  Chmxh  was  the  first, 
subsequently  to  give  positive  sanction  to  the  severer  practice.  See  Smith, 
"Dictionary  of  Christian  Antiquities."     London,  1855.     Art.  "Digamy." 

I  'Ayt«^f-ai  yoiiu  ical  ycifxoc.  Clement,  "  Strom."  iv.  20,  28  ;  "  Paedag." 
iL   lO,  90.  §  "AvSt]C(  tov  yaftov  rd  rsicva.      Ibid.  ii.  8,  71. 

I,  "  Talia  Christus  videns  et  audiens  taidet."  Tertullian,  "Ad  uxor." 
11,17. 

Z7 


402  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

mon ;  together  they  bend  the  knee,  together  they  fast. 
They  instruct  and  exhort  one  another,  and  bear  each 
other's  infirmities  ;  they  go  together  to  the  house  of 
God  and  to  the  eucharistic  table  ;  they  pass,  hand  in 
hand,  through  trials,  persecutions,  and  pleasures. 
There  is  no  dissimulation  between  them ;  the}^  are  of 
one  mind  in  all  Christian  work  ;  the  sick  are  freely 
visited,  alms  freely  given,  sacrifices  made  without 
grudging.  Their  Christian  zeal  knows  no  check ; 
together  they  praise  God  without  fear  in  psalms  and 
hymns  of  joy;  their  only  rivalry  is  for  His  glory. 
Christ,  looking  down  on  such  a  union,  delights  in  it. 
According  to  His  promise,  He  is  with  these  two  who 
have  set  up  no  idol  on  their  hearth." 

The  father  is  truly  the  priest  of  the  house  :  his  minis- 
try commences  with  his  wife,  whom  he  seeks  to  direct 
into  that  path  of  quiet  domestic  virtue  which  best 
becomes  her.'-'  While  the  man  is  called  to  fulfil  his 
various  duties  abroad,  the  w^ife's  place  is  at  home. 
Christianity  adopts  and  sanctifies  the  old  Roman 
device,  which  was  the  highest  praise  of  the  matron, 
Lanam  fecit.  The  wife  was  to  be  devoted  to  domestic 
duties,  to  make  with  her  own  hands  the  clothes  for  her 
husband  and  children,  to  prepare  the  meals,  and  to  be 
always  ready  to  break  the  bread  of  charity  to  the  poor 
and  the  stranger.  Like  the  wise  woman  of  the  Pro- 
verbs, she  is  the  joy  and  stay  of  her  household,  and 
hastens,  like  Sarah,  to  spread  the  hospitable  board. 
The  wife  is  thus  the  deaconess  of  the  family  :  she  is 
peculiarly  the  representative  of  Christian  charity,  f 
Plainly  dressed  in  a  garment  of  her  own  spinning,  she 

*  To  aKr-paiov  r^i:  -nc;iv:T]Toc.     Clement,   "  Strom."  iv.  17,  lio. 
f  Ibid.    "  Picdag."  iii.   10,49. 


CHRISTIANITY   AND    THE    PEOPLE.  403 

has  all  the  beauty  of  a  chaste  simplicity  ;  she  is  the 
glory  of  her  husband,  the  true  treasure  of  the  house. 
Never  eating  the  bread  of  idleness,  the  honey  of  charity 
flows  from  her  lips ;  she  opens  her  mouth  with  wisdom, 
and  her  children  rise  up  and  call  her  blessed.*  The 
education  of  her  children  is  her  first  task,  and  in  this 
her  husband  bears  his  part ;  for  the  highest  end  of 
marriage  is  not  to  perpetuate  the  human  race  on  earth, 
but  to  educate  men  for  the  skies. t  We  see  from  the 
stern  rebukes  addressed  to  Hermas  in  the  "  Pastor  "  how 
culpable  negligence  of  this  duty  was  thought  to  be. 
"  Thou  art  the  cause  of  great  miseries,"  says  the  mys- 
terious voice  in  his  vision,  "  because  of  the  prevarica- 
tions of  thy  family,  of  which  thou  hast  taken  no  more 
heed  than  if  the}^  did  not  concern  thee."  X  The  children 
are  to  be  trained  in  the  school  of  Christ.  They  must 
learn  from  their  very  cradle  how  God  regards  humility 
in  a  vain  world  like  this,  and  of  how  much  account 
before  Him  is  the  love  which  keeps  itself  undefiled  in 
the  midst  of  the  general  corruption,  and  the  fear  of  the 
Lord,  which  is  the  grand  preservative  from  evil.§  The 
father  and  mother  hear  the  voice  of  the  Master  saying 
to  them,  as  to  the  women  of  Judaea:  "Suffer  the 
children  to  come  unto  me."  It  was  by  means  of  this 
early  instruction  that,  on  the  night  of  the  great  Easter 
baptism,  children  of  five  and  six  years  old  were  found 
ready  to  make  the  neophyte's  profession  of  faith.  ||  Thus 
was  formed  in  the  home  that  incomparable  type  of  the 
pure  and  tender   Christian   mother,  agonizing  for  the 

*  Clement,  "Poedag."  iii.  I,  67. 

t  Td    Tf.Kva    rifiiov     r/)t     ip    Xptcrci")     TraiSiiag    fteraXaCtrioffav.       Ibid. 
"Strom."  iv.  17,  no.  I   "Pastor  Hermas,"  book  i.  vis.  I,  3. 

§  Clement,  "  Strom."  iv.  17,  no.  ||   "  Const.  Eccl.  Egypt."  ii.  64. 

27  - 


404  THE    EARLY   CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

spiritual  birth  of  her  children,  a  type  which  is  personi- 
fied in  the  following  age  in  the  mother  Monica. 

The  young  girl  is  the  object  of  most  delicate  care, 
that  she  may  be  shielded,  like  a  flower,  from  every 
breath  which  would  sully  her  purity.  Her  mother 
watches  over  her  with  jealous  anxiety,  to  keep  her 
away  from  the  degrading  spectacles  of  the  city,  and  free 
from  the  contamination  which  lurks  at  almost  every 
step  of  pagan  life.  Taking  up  the  sentiment  of 
Juvenal,  Maxima  puero  dehetur  reverentia,  the  Christian 
moralist  gives  it  the  true  application.  "  Let  us  do 
honour  to  youth,  by  training  it  in  the  admonition 
of  the  Lord.'""  It  was  this  feeling  of  reverence  for  the 
young,  which  led  the  father  of  Origen  to  rise  by  night 
and  kiss  the  bosom  of  his  sleeping  son,  which  seemed  to 
him  a  sanctuary  of  the  Spirit  of  God. 

Both  wife  and  child  are  thus  raised  from  the  miserable 
state  to  which  paganism  had  reduced  them.  From  his 
very  birth  the  child  in  the  Christian  house  is  recognised 
as  an  immortal  being  destined  for  a  higher  life.  It  is 
this  spark  of  the  Divine  within  him  which,  more  than 
his  strength  and  beauty,  makes  him  precious  to  his 
father  and  mother.  The  claim  that  is  founded  on 
humanity  is  thus  consecrated  by  Christianity. 

The  same  Divine  principle  which  abolished  inequality 
in  the  family  became  the  guarantee  of  its  purity.  If 
marriage  is  respected  as  a  holy  institution,  the  Church 
cannot  but  be  on  its  guard  against  those  enticements  to 
evil  which,  under  the  immoral  conditions  of  pagr.n  so- 
ciety, were  presented  on  every  hand  and  through  every 

*  T(/t?}ffWjuei'  rorf  J'fo?';^  7raiCev(T(i)i.iev  rt]v  -raictiav  rov  Oiov.  Clement, 
*'  Piedag."  iv.  17,  no. 


CHRISTIANITY   AND    THE    PEOPLE. 


4«5 


sense.  The  very  air  was  charged  with  impure  miasma. 
However  carefully  the  Christian  woman  was  guarded 
at  home,  she  was  exposed  to  constant  danger  abroad. 
Mixed  social  gatherings  were  full  of  peril.*  Married 
women  could  only  venture  into  them  veiled  :  young  girls, 
as  they  respected  their  purity  and  innocence,  must  avoid 
tliem  altogether.t  The  state  of  society  was  such  that 
mere  contact  with  it  was  defilement.  The  Christian 
was  enjoined  to  treat  every  young  woman  as  a  daughter, 
and  every  youn^  man  as  a  son.|  Mere  abstinence  from 
actual  sin  was  not  enough  :  according  to  the  new  and 
Divine  rule,  the  very  thought  or  glance  of  impurity 
was  to  be  eschewed  as  sin.  § 

The  Church  is  not  content  with  denouncing  and  pro- 
scribing sensuality  in  every  form:,  it  insists  on  the 
utmost  simplicity  of  dress  and  manners  among  the 
Christians.  Everything  which  is  artificial  and  super- 
fluous is  severely  condemned  as  a  reproach  to  the  sim- 
plicity of  nature.  The  sterner  moralists  speak  of  vain 
ornaments  as  coming  from  the  devil,  who  has  ever  been 
ready  to  mar  the  creation  of  God.||  According  to  Tertul- 
lian,  the  precious  metals  are  given  only  to  try  us.  "  This 
age,"  he  says,  referring  to  the  bloody  conflicts  of  the 
Church,  "is  the  age  of  iron,  not  gold."1[  The  only  glory 
which  the  Christian  may  covet  for  his  mortal  flesh  is 
that  of  being  crucified  with  Christ.  The  woman  who 
takes  delight  in  costly  adornment  will  soon  find  herself, 
like  the  pagan  Venus,  bound  to  adultery  by  chains  of 

*  Clement,  "  Psedag. "  iii.  ii,  74.  f  Ibid.  ii.  7,  54. 

I   Ib;d.  ii.  10,  90. 

§  "Ac  nos  pudorem  non  facie  sed  mente  praestamus. "  Minutius  Felix 
"Octzv.^s^.  II  Tertullian.    "Decult.  fem."i.  8.        ' 

1  "  Ceterum  tempora  Chiistianorum  semper  et  nunc  vel  maxime  non  auro 
sed  ferro  transiguntur. "     Ibid.  ii.  13.  ' 


406  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

gold.  *  *'  Let  the  woman  remember,"  Tertuliian  says 
again,  ''how  fatal  was  the  use  she  made  of  her  power 
over  man  in  opening  to  him  the  gate  of  perdition  ;  and 
like  Eve,  penitent  though  pardoned,  let  her  stand  on  the 
threshold  of  the  Eden,  closed  to  man  by  her  fault  but 
reopened  by  Christ,  weeping  holy  tears  like  the  sinner 
in  the  Gospel,  and  rejecting  all  the  allurements  of  a 
corrupt  age."t 

The  Montanists  went  to  extremes  on  this,  as  on  all 
oth^r  points.  While  admitting  that  beauty  is  not  in 
itself  contemptible,  that  it  is,  as  Tertuliian  eloquently 
says,  the  happiness  of  the  body,  the  adorning  of  the 
Divine  creation,  the  festal  garment  of  the  soul,!  fear  of 
the  peril  it  may  bring  predominates,  and  demands  that 
even  its  legitimate  attractions  be  hidden  from  view. 
"  The  chosen  woman  will  always  be  beautiful  enough 
for  her  husband. "§  The  wiser  party  avoid  these  exag- 
gerations of  Christian  prudence.  While  they  desire 
Christian  women  not  to  imitate  the  painted  faces  of  their 
pagan  rivals,  nor  to  appear  like  them  in  long  trailing 
robes  of  many  colours,  with  mantles  of  Tyrian  dye,  and 
shoes  sparkling  with  priceless  jewels,  the  prohibition  is 
given  not  only  in  order  to  avoid  the  appearance  of  evil, 
but  also  to  allow  freer  play  to  their  unadorned  natural 
beauty  and  grace.  Without  making  any  concession  to 
pagan  luxury,  the  Christian  woman  is  allowed  to  dress 
in  finer  stuffs  than  the  man,  and  to  adapt  her  clothing  to 
her  sex.  ij     Will  she  seem  less  beautiful  in   the  white 

*  Clement,  "Psedag."ii.  12,  123. 

t   "  Ipsam  se  circumferens  Evam  lugentem  et  pcenitentem."     Tertuliian, 
**  De  cult,  fern."  i.  4. 

I  "  Felicitas  corporis. "     Ibid,  ii,  2.  §  Ibid.  ii.  4. 

II  Clement  *' P^dag."  iii.  2,  4;  Ibid.  ii.  12,  126. 


CHRISTIANITY   AND    THE    PEOPLE. 


407 


robe,  which  is  the  symbol  of  purity,  than  decked  out  in 
the  theatrical  garb  which  completely  disguises  the  wife 
and  mother  ? ''  That  which  suits  the  stage  can  be  little 
adapted  for  the  life  of  the  Christian,  which  is  no 
comedy,  t 

We  know  what  frightful  prodigality  characterised  the 
pagan  festivals  of  this  age.  Christian  morality  as 
sternly  forbade  this  kind  of  luxury  as  extravagance  of 
dress.  The  table  of  Christians  was  not  to  be  loaded 
with  costly  viands.  The  fire  of  youth  was  not  to  be  fed 
by  the  wine  cup.t  All  the  fowl  of  the  air,  fish  of  the  sea, 
and  flesh  of  beasts,  could  scarcely  satisfy  the  voracity 
of  the  pagan  orgies. §  He  who  owns  that  it  is  from  the 
hand  of  God  he  receives  his  daily  bread,  is  contented 
with  the  gifts  of  nature,  and  will  not  indulge  that 
shameful  gluttony  which  m.akes  a  god  of  the  belly,  and 
loves  the  song  of  the  drunkard  as  the  accompaniment  to 
the  hissing  viands  upon  the  hearth.  There  is  no  lack 
of  joy  at  the  table  of  the  Christians,  for  the  family  has 
its  lawful  feasts,  but  the  joy  is  calm  and  pure.  It  seeks 
no  factitious  excitement  in  the  soft  music  of  the  lute 
players.  All  voices  join  in  the  praise  of  God,  from  the 
father  to  the  little  child.  ||  They  sing  to  the  harp,  as  in 
the  time  of  David.  A  cheerful  mirth  prevails,  which 
never  sinks  into  low  buffoonery.^ 

It  vv'as  not  forbidden  to  hold  intercourse  with  pagans. 
It  was  plain  that  bonds  previously  existing  could  not  be 
abruptly  broken,  that  there  were  obligations  of  friend- 
ship and  kindred.    Tertullian  himself  admits  this  neces- 

*  Clement,  "Psedag."  ii.  40,  108,  no. 

t  Tdv  dk  rjj.isTfpov  (Siov  Trdvra  fiaSXov  rj  Troix7n)v  tlvca.   Ibid.  ii.  10,  801. 

X   Ibid.  ii.  2,  20.  §   Ibid.  ii.  I,  3. 

!!   Ibid.  ii.  4,  41.  U   Ibid.  ii.  5,  46. 


408  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

sity  of  allowing  pagan  friendships  even  to  Christian 
women,  though  they  were  full  of  peril  because  of  the 
inevitable  contact  with  idolatrous  practices.'''' 

We  know  what  part  was  played  by  the  parasite  in  the 
Roman  social  feasts  :  the  ridiculous  flatteries  and  jests 
by  w^hich  he  paid  for  his  entertainment  were  an  indis- 
pensable part  of  the  amusement.  The  place  of  this 
ignoble  guest  is  taken  at  the  table  of  the  Christian  by 
the  passing  stranger,  who,  as  a  brother  Christian,  is 
received  with  the  utmost  cordiality.  The  hospitality  of 
the  Christians  is  far  larger  than  that  of  the  ancients. 
The  latter  was  chiefly  confined  to  the  family  circle ;  the 
stranger  could  claim  no  welcome  there  merely  as  a  fel- 
low-man ;  there  was  an  open  place  only  for  those  who 
were  in  some  way  connections  of  the  family.  Christian 
hospitality,  on  the  contrary,  is  offered  purely  on  prin- 
ciples of  humanity;  the  stranger  is  welcomed  as  a 
brother,  without  reference  to  any  family  archives ;  he  is 
received  as  a  son  of  the  Father  who  is  in  heaven  and  a 
disciple  of  Christ.  From  whatever  barbarous  country 
he  might  have  come,  his  welcome  was  like  that  of  the 
angels  in  the  tent  of  Abraham.  He  at  once  found  his 
place  at  the  family  table  and  at  the  domestic  altar. f 
There  were  circumstances  under  which  this  hospitality 
became  a  specially  sacred  duty,  namely,  w^hen  it  was 
exercised  towards  a  proscribed  Christian.  Sometimes 
the  stranger  who  knocked  at  the  door  was  a  fugitive 
escaping  from  impending  death.  There  is  real  danger 
in  receiving  such,  the  more  if  the  house  which  is  thus 
opened  to   him   is  already   under  suspicion  ;    but  even 

*   "  Necessitas  amicitiarum  officiorumque  gentilium."     Tertullian,  "  De 
cult,  fem."  ii.  t  Ibid.  **  Deorat."  21. 


CHRISTIANITY   AND    THE    PEOPLE.  409 

under   these  circumstances  the   law   of   hospitality   is 
sacredly  observed.* 

The  interior  of  the  Christian  home  is  to  correspond  in 
simplicity  with  the  manner  of  life  of  its  inmates. t  The 
followers  of  Christ  can  be  indifferent  to  all  that  wealth 
can  procure  while  they  seek  the  wisdom  that  cannot  be 
bought  or  sold. 

The  contrast  must  have  been  great  between  such  a 
home,  ruled  by  the  principles  of  the  gospel,  and  the 
houses  of  the  pagans.  The  Christian's  dwelling  was 
often  a  humble  abode  in  one  of  the  poor  quarters  of  the 
city,  for  the  Church  gathered  its  members  largely  from 
the  lower  ranks  of  society.  It  is  ascertained  now, 
however,  that  a  considerable  number  of  noble  and 
wealthy  families  had  also  become  adherents  of  the  new 
religion.  To  these  the  counsels  of  the  Christian  moral- 
ists were  mainly  addressed,  for  they  alone  were  exposed 
to  the  temptation  of  luxury.  It  is  easy  to  understand 
what  changes  were  introduced  by  Christianity  into  their 
dwellings,  from  our  knowledge  of  the  pagan  houses  of 
the  period.  These  were  approached  by  a  vestibule 
adorned  with  -suits  of  armour  and  statues,  and  divided 
into  two  parts.  There  was  first  the  atrium,  separated 
from  the  vestibule  by  a  small  door  :  this  had  on  either 
side  wings  which  contained  the  dwelling  rooms.  In  the 
centre  was  the  imphivium,  the  basin  which  received  the 
w^ater  from  the  roof.  The  tahliniun,  which  was  separated 
from  the  atrium  only  by  a  long  veil,  was  the  most  import- 

*  TovQ  hioKOf-i'iVovQ  ^id  Triariv  Kal  alg  ttoKiv  Ik  ttoX^mq  (pivyovraQ 
TrpoaXafitdi'enOi  .  .  .  Vra  dvt^c'ipvt]TOV  iv  kavToiq  to  ovofia  rov  Xpiffrov 
SiaTr]f>i)(Tix)(nv.      "Const.  Apost. "  viii.  45. 

t  Xpri  Koi  TCI  KTi]j.iaTa  kTndEiKPvtTOai  <rvfi€o\a  (3iov  icaXov,  "Psedag. " 
"•  3.  37. 


4IO  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

ant  chamber.  In  it  were  kept  the  legal  documents,  the 
archives  of  the  family,  the  title-deeds  of  the  house,  and 
those  of  the  colleges  to  which  they  were  attached.  The 
hearth,  with  the  household  gods,  is  in  the  centre  of  the 
house:  the  statues  of  the  ancestors  are  carefully  kept, 
but  are  only  exposed  on  days  of  special  solemnity.  The 
dining-room,  or  tricliniuni,  has  couches  for  nine  guests, 
with  a  square  table  in  the  centre.  A  colonnade,  walled 
and  planted  with  trees,  forms  a  second  peristyle,  around 
which  are  the  miserable  chambers  of  the  slaves.  On 
every  hand  are  sculptured  ornaments  or  painted  repre- 
sentations of  pagan  myths."  The  Christian  who  has 
inherited  such  a  house  from  his  ancestors  will  not  feel 
himself  obliged  to  forsake  it,  but  he  must  obliterate  all 
traces  of  paganism.  Thus  the  walls  are  stripped  of 
the  frescoes  which  were  devoted  to  the  glory  and  to  the 
loves  of  the  gods.  The  Penates  must  be  removed  from 
the  hearth.  Eager  guests  no  longer  throng  the  peristyle. 
Their  place  is  taken  by  the  poor,  whom  the  proud  Roman 
patrician  must  now  own  as  brothers  and  sisters,  in  spite 
of  the  plebeian  blood  in  their  veins.  He  himself  serves 
them  at  the  table  of  the  Agape.  Instead  of  awaiting 
at  home  the  servile  obeisance  of  those  who  fawn  on  him 
for  his  riches,  he  must  rise  with  the  dawn  and  repair  to 
the  holy  assembly.  His  wife  is  no  longer  kept  in  ob- 
scurity, and  only  allowed  to  appear  at  the  time  of  the 
luxurious  feast :  she  is  the  mistress  of  his  house,  and 
goes  wherever  duty  calls  her.  No  Christian  art  has  yet 
arisen  to  embellish  the  homes  of  the  converts.  Mural 
decoration  of  this  kind  is  as  yet  reserved  for  the  gloomy 
walls  of  the  catacombs,   but  the  favourite  symbols  of 

*  Becker,  "  Roemisch.  Alterth. "  v.  220. 


CHRISTIANITY   AND    THE    PEOPLE.  4II 

primitive  Christianity,  the  Good  Shepherd,  the  Anchor, 
and  the  Dove,  are  constantly  iound  on  the  vases  and 
rings  of  this  period.  Often  the  Christian  home  served 
as  the  place  of  worship,  especially  before  the  creation 
of  regular  houses  of  prayer.  Tradition  reports  that  the 
Senator  Pudentius  lent  his  house  for  this  purpose.* 
Possibly  the  impluvium  may  have  been  employed  as  a 
baptismal  font.  Under  the  trees  of  the  second  peristyle 
the  humbler  Christians  often  gathered,  and  raised  their 
hymn  of  praise  where  once  was  heard  only  voluptuous 
song. 

The  pagan  house  was  wont  to  be  sumptuously  deco- 
rated on  the  occasion  of  any  family  feast — when  the 
young  wife  was  brought  to  it  in  state,  or  when  the  in- 
heritor of  the  family  name  repaired  to  the  forum,  habited 
for  the  first  time  in  the  garb  of  manhood.  It  presented 
an  imposing  appearance  when  the  remains  of  the  head 
of  the  farnily  were  carried  to  the  funeral  pile,  accom- 
panied in  stately  cortege  by  the  statues  of  his  ancestors. 
More  humble,  but  more  pathetic,  were  the  solemnities  of 
the  Christian  hearth.  The  young  wife  came  to  it  with 
the  blessings  and  prayers  of  the  Church.  The  neophyte 
on  w^hose  forehead  had  been  set  the  Divine  seal  felt  a 
keener  joy  than  the  newly-made  citizen  on  claiming  his 
rights.  No  Roman  senator  was  more  proud  of  his  noble 
ancestry  than  was  the  Christian  family  which  had  given 
a  martyr  to  the  Church.  It  was  in  times  of  suffering 
and  sorrow  that  the  peculiar  beauty  of  the  Christian 
character  appeared,  w^hen  it  show^ed  all  the  tenderness 
of  which  it  was  capable,  and  all  the  glory  of  its  im- 
mortal hopes.     Then,  like  the  family  of  Bethany,  who 

*  See  Rossi,  "Bulletin  di  Archeolog.  crist."  pp.  43,  44. 


412  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

saw  the  Saviour  weeping  over  the  grave  of  their  lost 
one,  the  Christian  family  realised  the  presence  of  the 
Divine  Guest,  sanctifying  their  sorrow,  and  giving  glo- 
rious assurance  to  their  hopes.  None  were  more  truly 
present  than  the  absent  loved  ones,  whose  names  were 
tenderly  mentioned  at  every  eucharistic  feast. 

This  high  ideal  was  not  uniformly  realised,  but  it 
was  a  grand  thing  that  it  should  be  accepted  as  the 
true  standard  of  the  life  of  the  family;  and  that,  however 
faintly  and  afar  off,  it  should  lighten  every  Christian 
home.  It  asserted  the  grand  principle  of  human 
equality,  and  made  sacred  the  claim  of  weakness, 
while  it  gave  to  the  family  affections  the  breadth  of  the 
Divine  love.  "  We  can  walk  in  the  footsteps  of  Christ," 
says  Clement,  ''when  our  wife  and  children  w^alk  with 
us.  A  family  is  no  hindrance  to  progress  in  the  Chris- 
tian course  when  all  follow  the  same  guide.  The  wife 
who  loves  her  husband  learns  to  walk  with  him  step  by 
step."*  The  rights  of  marriage  are  thus  vindicated,  and 
its  duties  become  clear  in  the  light  of  the  gospel. 

§  2. — The  Christian  Family  and  the  Poor, 

We  have  seen  that  the  Church  liberally  remem- 
bered the  poor  in  her  daily  worship.  The  freewill  offer- 
ings which  accompanied  the  Eucharist  were  dedicated 
to  the  support  of  the  indigent,  of  the  widows  and 
orphans,  and  through  them  of  Christ  Himself,  who  has 
made  their  cause  His  own.  This  collective  charity  was 
the  product  of  the  generosity  of  all  the  members,  but 
individual  charity  could  not  be  satisfied  with  this  public 


*  OvK    o-xdog    larlv    6    oJicog    avvtaTrnrkoQai    /naOiov    uSonropoj    aujq 
Clement,  "  Pcedag. "  iii.  7,  38. 


oovi. 


THE   CHRISTIAN    FAMILY   AND    THE    POOR.  413 

ministration  of  the  Church.     Every    Christian    family 
held  itself  bound  to  the  practice  of  almsgiving,  and  the 
wife,  who  was  ever  ready  to  welcome  the  needy  and  the 
stranger,  and   to    inquire    into,   and   provide   for   their 
wants,  was  the  chief  almoner  of  this  domestic  charity. 
Many  a   Dorcas    made    garments   for  the   poor,   spin- 
ning the  wool  for  them  with  her  own  fingers,  and  thus 
deserving  more  honour  than  the  Roman  matron,  who 
cared   for   none   but   her   own    husband  and   children. 
Christianity    did    not    confine   itself    to    scattering   its 
bounty  with  open  hand.     It  also  taught  a  new  law  of 
property,   such    as    the    pagan  world   had   never  con- 
ceived: it  uplifted  the  poor,  and  created  that  true  charity 
which   is   something   far   larger  and  higher  than  mere 
almsgiving.     This  important  reform  in  the  moral  rela- 
tions of  men  was  also  wrought  without  noise  through 
the  family  circle.     Here  again   the  broad  idea  of  hu- 
manity triumphed   over   narrow   conventionalities   and 
purely  civil  distinctions. 

Property,  according  to  the  old  Roman  constitution,  is 
the  investiture  by  the  state  of  the  conquered  soil :  no 
other  possession  is  guaranteed  by  contract,  because  the 
state  has  no  concern  with  it.  Justice  takes  no  account 
of  natural  proprietorship  :  this  is  simply  ignored.  The 
legal  title  is  everything.  Equity  succumbs  before  the 
formulas  of  mancipation  or  proprietorship  conveyed  by 
the  state.  It  is  clear  that  as  the  right  of  natural 
ownership  is  again  recognised,  the  law  itself  will  be- 
come more  humane  and  equitable,  more  in  accordance 
with  that  justice  which  puts  good  faith  above  the  more 
or  less  elastic  terms  of  a  contract.  It  is  the  honour  of 
the  great  lawyers  of  the  empire  to  have  adopted  this 


414  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

course,  and  to  have  begun  to  introduce  equity  into 
the  Roman  code.*  Christianity  was  destined  to  tread 
down  the  yet  more  powerful  barrier  of  Pharisaic  nar- 
rowness, the  poUtical  formaUsm  of  the  ancient  law,  by 
showing  that  God  alone  is  the  sovereign  dispenser  of 
property.  Thus  understood,  property  is  no  longer 
simply  the  consolidation  of  conquest  by  the  civil  law ;  it 
is  a  trust  devolved  on  the  possessor,  for  which  he  must 
give  account  to  God  and  to  his  brethren. 

In  the  treatise  of  Clement  on  riches,  we  shall  find  the 
true  idea  of  primitive  Christianity  on  the  possession 
of  property. t  He  begins  by  acknowledging  its  lawful- 
ness in  so  far  as  it  proceeds  from  God ;  it  must  then  be 
held  in  accordance  with  His  will,  in  all  honesty,  and 
must  be  used  for  its  true  end.  "The  Lord,"  he  says, 
"  does  not  condemn  riches,  provided  that  those  who 
possess  them  seek  to  know  His  will  concerning  them."  J 
How  could  He  disapprove  that  which  He  Himself  has 
so  lavishly  provided  in  creation  ?  The  carefulness  and 
toil  by  which  riches  are  amassed  are  not  blameworthy. 
The  right  of  inheritance  cannot  be  disputed.  "  What 
is  gained,"  Clement  continues,  "by  the  renunciation 
of  riches,  if,  in  the  midst  of  poverty,  the  heart  is  still 
going  after  its  covetousness  ?  It  is  not  enough  to  be  as 
the  beggar  at  the  gate,  in  order  to  be  a  saint ;  there 
must  be  the  true  poverty  of  spirit,  which  consists  in  not 
having  the  affections  set  upon  earthly  things,  in  being 
ready  to  surrender  them,  and  especially  to  share  them 
with   those   who    suffer  need.§     That  which  must    be 

*  Troplong,  *'De   I'influence  du    Christianisme   sur  le   droit  civil  des 
Remains, "  pp.  32,  33.  f   '"Quis  dives  sal vetiu-."  • 

X  "On  TOVQ  TrXovaiovg  oudeva  TpOTcof  0  aM-t'jp  aTroKeKXeiKev.     Ibid.  26. 
§  Ibid.  18. 


THE    CHRISTIAN    FAMILY   AND    THE    POOR.  415 

banished  from  the  Christian  Hfe  is  avarice,  which,  hke  a 
serpent  crouching  over  a  treasure,  finds  no  enjoyment 
itself,  and  hinders  others  from  gaining  any.  The  man 
who  yields  to  avarice  finds  his  whole  nature  wither,  and 
seems  to  have  no  longer  a  heart,  only  a  piece  of  money 
in  his  breast.  * 

After  all,  wealth  is  but  an  instrument,  and  everything 
depends  on  the  use  that  is  made  of  it.t  It  is  intended 
by  Providence  to  fulfil  a  great  purpose.  First  of  all,  it 
is  essential  to  the  very  existence  of  human  society, 
which  cannot  be  carried  on  without  the  exchange  of 
property.l  But  its  ultimate  end  is  to  call  forth  charity 
in  its  practical  expression  in  the  care  and  succour  of  the 
poor.  This  work  is  not  meritorious  in  itself,  and  when 
it  is  done  through  motives  of  envy  or  vain  glory,  it  is  no 
more  pleasing  to  God  than  the  greedy  hoarding  of  the 
miser ;  §  but  when  it  is  practised  in  humility  and  love, 
it  confers  true  moral  dignity.  Beneath  the  sordid  rai- 
ment and  haggard  features  of  the  poor  may  be  discerned 
the  Father  and  the  Son.  The  earthen  vessel  carries 
great  treasure.il  The  poor  man  is  like  the  wounded 
traveller  by  the  wayside,  who  needs  to  be  lifted  up,  to 
have  his  wounds  dressed,  his  wants  appeased,  his  body 
clothed,  and  a  shelter  found  for  him. II 

In  all  these  points  Christian  charity  differs  widely 
from  pagan  beneficence.  The  pit}'  of  the  pagan  may  be 
stirred  by  one  of  those  gracious  influences  which  pass 
sometimes  over  the  soul  of  man,  bearing  witness  to  its 

*  Ov  Kapoiav  aWa  idraXXov  (f>opo)V.      "  Quis  dives  salvetwr, '"'  17. 
t  'O  TrXoi'Tog  opyavov  Itti.      Ibid.   14. 

X  Tic  yap  dv  Koivwvia  KaroXenroiTO  Tvapd  dvOpMirniQ,  it  firiSh^  t^fiUfl^^^. 
Ibid.  13.  §   Ibid.  ii.  19. 

II  "Ej'f'or  6  KpnTTTog  ivoiKtl  Trarrjp  Kai  6  tovtov  watg.     Ibid.  33. 
11  Ibid.  28. 


4l6  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

Divine  origin.  To  some  such  sublime  and  exceptional 
inspiration  we  must  trace  the  noble  utterances  of 
Cicero  and  Seneca  upon  our  duty  towards  the  dis- 
tressed. Nevertheless,  the  beneficence  of  the  pagan 
world  remains,  for  the  most  part,  narrow,  self-interested, 
or  at  least  marked  by  a  political  bias.  It  does  not  go  be- 
yond the  limits  of  the  country.  The  poor  man,  who  is 
neither  a  fellow-countryman  nor  a  family  connection, 
but  simply  a  human  being  in  distress,  rarely  indeed 
finds  any  to  compassionate  his  lot.  There  could  be  no 
true  charity  in  the  munificence  of  the  Caesars,  who 
merely  fed  and  amused  the  people  to  hold  them  in  the 
more  complete  subjection. 

The  famous  alimentary  law  of  Trajan,  which  re- 
ceived new  developments  under  his  successors,  was 
primarily  a  movement  of  policy.  The  emperor  made 
ample  loans  to  the  rural  proprietors,  to  encourage 
the  tillage  of  the  soil  in  Italy :  in  return  he  demanded 
that  the  interest  of  these  large  sums  should  be  dis- 
tributed among  the  children  of  the  poorer  citizens. 
His  aim  was  in  this  way  to  check  the  depopulation 
of  the  provinces  and  the  impoverishment  of  the  soil, 
and  to  prepare  soldiers  for  the  armies  of  the  empire. 
This  accounts  for  the  cessation  of  the  help  thus 
given  to  these  young  citize  is  when  they  had  reached 
the  age  for  enlisting.  Evidently  these  liberal  measures 
were  not  prompted  by  humane  but  by  political  con- 
siderations. Private  individuals  began  to  imitate  the 
emperor,  and  foundations  having  a  like  object  were 
multiplied.  Munificent  gifts  were  often  bestowed  on 
the  civic  authorities,  to  be  used  for  the  poor  citizens. 
Such  liberality  was  doubtless  the  indication  of  a  great 


THE    CHRISTIAN    FAMILY    AND    THE    POOR.  417 

advance  in  public  feeling,"  but  it  is  none  the  less  true 
that  charity  in  its  true  sense  was  understood  and 
practised  only  among  Christians.  With  them  it  was 
the  first  duty.  None  of  their  brethren  in  the  faith  must 
be  allowed  to  want.  Their  generosity  was  so  well 
known,  that  it  sometimes  became  an  inducement  to  the 
unfortunate,  to  embrace  the  Christian  faith. t  The 
Church  gives  new  force  to  the  old  Scripture  words, 
"  I  have  not  seen  the  righteous  forsaken,  nor  his  seed 
begging  bread."  '*  For,"  says  Clement,  "  side  by  side  with 
the  hungry  brother  there  is  always  found  another  to 
share  his  bread  with  him. "J  The  community  of  spi- 
ritual things  leads  naturally  to  a  community  also  of  the 
inferior  necessaries  of  life.  There  is  no  compulsion, 
but  the  simple  application  of  the  law  of  solidarity,  that 
all  those  who  live  by  the  same  life  of  the  Word  should 
have  all  things  in  common. § 

This  charity  goes  out  to  seek  and  to  save  that  which 
is  lost,  beginning  at  its  own  door.  The  rich  man,  as 
Commodian  has  said,  supports  his  poor  neighbour  as  the 
tree  sustains  the  creeper.  ||  It  is  not  necessary  to  have 
an  abundance  of  this  world's  goods  in  order  to  show 
this  practical  charity.  Often  the  humble  Christian 
whose  own  wants  are  barely  supplied  can  forego  his 
bread  for  the  sake  of  those  who  are  poorer  still. ^ 

Reaching  far  and  wide  its  compassionate  arm,  this 
same  charity  gathers  together  large  sums  for  the  ransom 
of  the  captives :  it  is  its  joy  to  break  the  bonds  of  the 

*  Boissier,  "  Relig.  Roniaine,"  ii.  210. 

t   Koivuji'ticovQ  TOJV  tTTiTriSiiaiv  jiaOovreQ  rovg  KaQojffuof^ievovQ  T(f  Xpi<7T(^. 
Clement,  "  Strom."  i.  I,  6.  I   Ibid.  "Psedag."  iii.  7,  40. 

§   Ibid.  ii.  12,  120.  J!  Commodian,  v.  460,  461. 

IF  Origan,  "  In  Levitic.  Horn.  x.  2,"  ii.  246. 

28 


4l8  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

prisoners,  remembering  how  Christ  has  said,  "  Inas- 
much as  ye  have  done  it  unto  one  of  these,  ye  have 
done  it  unto  me."  "Behold  Christ  Himself,"  savs 
Cyprian,  "in  your  captive  brethren,  and  redeem  from 
captivity  Him  who  has  redeemed  us  from  death.  Snatch 
from  the  hands  of  the  barbarians  Him  who  has  snatched 
us  from  the  grasp  of  the  demon,  and  purchase  with 
money  the  liberation  of  Him  who  purchased  us  with 
His  blood."*  To  such  appeals  no  Christian  could 
continue  insensible.  The  heroism  of  charity  was  some- 
times carried  so  far  that  freemen  offered  themselves  to 
serve  instead  of  the  captives. t  Such  was  the  fervour  of 
the  love  of  the  brethren ;  but  charity  must  not  confine 
itself  within  these  limits,  it  must  embrace  all  mankind, 
and  seek  the  good  of  every  fellow-creature.  Thus  when 
cruel  epidemics  ravaged  Carthage  and  Alexandria,  the 
Christians  were  ever  foremost  at  the  bedside  of  the 
dying,  never  asking  whether  those  whom  they  thus 
tended  had  not  been  among  their  persecutors.  While 
terror  reigned  in  the  desolated  villages,  as  their  in- 
habitants were  stricken  down  in  multitudes,  and  the 
unburied  dead  were  spreading  death  in  the  air,  the 
proscribed  Christians  were  the  only  helpers.  "  If  we 
show  kindness  only  to  our  own,"  says  Cyprian  to  his 
brethren,  "  we  shall  be  no  better  than  the  pagans  and 
the  publicans.  We,  as  Christians,  are  called  to  return 
good  for  evil,  and  to  pray  for  those  who  persecute  us. 
Since  we  are  the  children  of  God,  let  us  be  like  Him  in 
compassion. "t  The  Christians  of  Alexandria  showed 
themselves  no  less  devoted  during  the  plague  which 
broke  out  in  their  city.     Many  of  them  paid  with  their 

*  "In  captivis  fratribus  nostris  contemplandus  est  Christus."     Cyprian, 
"Ep."62,   2. 
t  Clement,  "  i  ad  Coiimh."  c.  55.  I   Pontii,  "Vita  Cyprian."  76. 


THE    CHRISTIAN    FAMILY   AND   THE    POOR.  419 

life  for  the  courage  with  which  they  braved  the  epidemic 
by  the  bedside  of  their  worst  enemies.*  When  charity 
has  reached  this  height  of  self-abnegation,  so  that  it 
can  rise  above  all  private  enmities  and  national  dis- 
tinctions, it  is  truly  a  reflection  of  the  Divine  and 
perfect  love.  It  embraces  in  its  pity  all  who  are  em- 
braced by  the  infinite  compassion,  and  it  is  truly  hu- 
man, because  truly  Divine.  The  old  selfish,  exclusive 
principle  is  utterly  subdued.  When  Cyprian  contrasted 
the  parsimony  of  the  Church  with  the  largesses  of  the 
world  to  its  prince,  who  had  shed  no  blood  for  his 
subjects,  nor  won  heaven  for  them,t  he  used  a  rhe- 
torical license  to  move  the  Christians  to  greater  liber- 
ality; but  he  knew  that  the  so-called  sacrifices  of  the 
pagan  world  were  made  to  its  own  evil  passions,  and  cost 
it  very  little,  and  he  could  not  deny  that  in  that  city  of 
Carthage,  where  his  noble  example  had  been  so  eagerly 
followed,  charity  had  appeared  as  a  heavenly  vision 
upon  an  accursed  earth. 

The  share  of  the  Christian  family  was  a  large  one  in 
this  sweet  and  blessed  activity.  It  not  only  contributed 
to  the  general  offering,  but  used  ungrudging  hospitality 
to  the  outcast,  the  widows,  and  orphans  who  sought  its 
succour.  When  the  Agape  was  made  distinct  from  the 
public  worship  it  was  celebrated  in  private  houses,  and 
every  day  the  poor  found  a  place  at  the  family  table  of 
their  richer  neighbours.  Love  thus  won  its  way  into 
the  cold  and  corrupt  pagan  world,  there  to  effect  that 
great  moral  transformation  which  all  the  inconsisten- 
cies and  all  the  crimes  of  a  degenerate  Christianity 
have  been  powerless  to  nullify. 

*  EuseLius,  "II.  E."  vii.  22.  t  Cyprian,  "  De  opere  et  eleemos."  22, 

28* 


420  THE   EARLY   CHRISTIAN    CHURCH, 


CHAPTER  III. 

CHRISTIANITY  IN  ITS  RELATIONS  TO  SLAVERY  AND  FREE 
LABOUR. 

§1. — Christianity  and  Slavery, 

The  Roman  house,  alike  in  town  and  country,  contained 
a  number  of  dark  recesses,  into  which  the  fresh  air  had 
scarcely  leave  to  enter.  In  these  miserable  lodgings 
were  crowded  together  a  vast  number  of  slaves,  male 
and  female,  who  sustained  the  w^eight  of  the  ancient 
community,  like  the  stalwart  but  wearied  Atlas  of  the 
Naples  museum,  bowing  beneath  the  burden  of  the 
world — a  formidable  giant,  though  tamed,  who  with  one 
shrug  of  his  mighty  shoulder  could  upheave  the  globe — 
a  creature  to  be  made  use  of,  but  at  the  same  time  to 
be  feared,  and  ever  to  be  kept  under  an  iron  yoke. 
Slavery  continued  to  be  to  the  end  of  the  empire, 
notwithstanding  some  unimportant  modifications,  the 
most  daring  negation  of  natural  and  human  rights.  It 
appears  in  this  case  the  more  shocking,  because  there 
could  not  be  even  a  pretence  of  a  difference  of  race,  and 
corresponding  inferiority  of  physical  constitution.  The 
crime  of  enslaving  a  human  being  remains  the  same, 
even  when  there  is  such  a  supposed  difference;  but  the 
offence  against  the  natural  rights  of  a  man  is  more 
glaring  when  it  is  one  of  the  same  blood  and  nation, 


CHRISTIANITY   AND    SLAVERY.  42I 

perhaps  even  of  the  same  family,  who  is  thus  treated  as  a 
mere  beast  of  burden  ;  when  in  the  slave-market  is  to  be 
seen  the  same  type  of  Roman  as  in  the  consular  palace, 
the  same  family  features  as  in  the  imperial  household. 
Here  we  note  the  sternest  application  of  that  civic  law 
which  ignores  everything  but  its  own  interests  and  pri- 
vileges, and  is  utterly  blind  to  the  ineffaceable  charter 
written  on  the  brow  of  every  human  being.  Slavery  is 
but  another  manifestation  of  that  purely  political  con- 
ception of  society  which  formed  the  basis  of  the  law  of 
property  and  marriage  in  the  ancient  world.  More  than 
once  already  we  have  noted  its  fatal  operation.  We 
must  now  consider  it  more  fully  under  another  aspect, 
that  we  may  measure  the  extent  of  the  reform  wrought 
by  Christianity  in  regard  to  it,  and  bring  into  promin- 
ence its  ruling  principles.* 

Slavery  is  not  an  'accident  of  paganism,  it  is  one  of 
its  fundamental  institutions :  it  is  but  another  develop- 
ment of  the  principle  that  might  is  right,  which  found 
its  first  application  to  foreign  nations,  and  then  fell 
with  all  its  weight  on  every  feeble  and  dependent  mem- 
ber of  the  community  or  of  the  family.  Captives  are  the 
property  of  their  conquerors,  and  spare  them  all  the 
toils  of  labour.  "  With  my  lance,"  cries  the  ancient 
warrior,  "  I  till,  I  sow,  I  reap."  The  practice  of  slave 
piracy  excites  no  horror,  because  the  victims  are  only 
barbarians  and  foreigners.  In  the  city  itself  slavery 
finds  plenty  of  recruits,  thanks  to  the  right  of  the  father 

*  The  chief  work  on  this  subject  is  the  very  learned  and  complete  book 
of  M.  Walbjn,  "  Histoire  de  I'esclavage  antique,"  3  vols.  See  also  M. 
Allard's  excellent  work,  "  Les  esclaves  chretiens  depuis  les  premiers  temps 
jusqu'a  la  fin  de  la  f^omination  Romaine  en  Occident."  M.  Boissier  has  an 
important  chapter  on  this  subject,  "  La  religion  Romaine,"  vol.  i.  book  iii. 
c,  5.     See  also  Plautus'  dramas. 


422  THE    EARLY   CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

to  abandon  his  children,  or  even  to  make  merchandise  of 
them.  The  insolvent  debtor  could  be  sold  in  Rome  at 
the  time  of  the  republic ;  the  citizen  who  had  evaded 
the  census  lost  the  rights  of  a  free  man.  The  traffic 
in  slaves  was  everywhere  authorised,  and  was  highly 
productive. 

The  worst  consequence  of  ancient  slavery  was  not 
the  amount  of  suffering  which  it  entailed,  great  though 
that  often  was,  but  the  degradation  of  the  whole  nature, 
and,  so  to  speak,  the  destruction  of  the  moral  person- 
ality. The  wrong  done  to  the  soul  and  conscience  of 
the  slave  is  nothing  short  of  murder,  even  when  mate- 
rially his  position  is  most  favourable.  If  he  is  admitted 
to  take  part  in  the  domestic  worship,  it  is  only  because 
he  belongs  to  the  house,  not  that  he  is  in  any  way  one 
of  the  family.  He  is  often  excluded  from  the  religious 
ceremonies  of  the  city  as  a  profane  person,"  though  he  is 
allowed  to  choose  his  particular  divinities  among  those 
of  his  country.  But  even  at  the  domestic  or  national 
altar  the  inequalit}'  under  which  he  groans  is  made  as 
galling  as  ever.  He  is  in  no  way  recognised  as  a  man ; 
he  is  but  a  thing,  a  chattel,  that  may  be  passed  from 
hand  to  hand,  and  bought  and  sold,  like  the  cattle  or 
agricultural  implements.  In  the  eye  of  the  civil  law 
he  has  no  rights ;  he  cannot  give  evidence  in  a  court  of 
justice,  he  cannot  enter  an  action ;  and,  so  long  as  the 
republic  lasted,  he  could  claim  no  protection  against  the 
cruelty  and  ill-treatment  of  his  master,  who  had  the 
power  of  life  or  death  over  him.  As  the  slave  was  not 
supposed  to  have  a  conscience,  if  he  was  called  to  bear 
witness  on  any  matter,  he  was  subjected  to  torture  to 

*  Wallon,  "  Hist,  de  I'esclavage  antique,"  i.  299. 


CHRISTIANITY   AND    SLAVERY.         ,  423 

wring  the  truth  out  of  him.     He  was  not  permitted  to 
be  a  husband  or  a  father. 

Quern  patrem  qui  servus  est.* 

His  female  companion  might  be  taken  to  be  his 
master's  concubine,  or  might  be  made  a  prostitute,  and 
he  had  no  right  of  remonstrance.  His  children  were 
counted  among  the  live  stock  which  his  master  might 
dispose  of  at  will.  Not  only  had  he  no  rights,  but,  graver 
still,  he  had  no  recognised  duties.  He  could  not  be 
brought  to  justice,  as  he  could  not  claim  it ;  he  could 
owe  nothing  to  the  citizen  who  owned  no  obligation 
towards  him.t  He  could  not  violate  the  law,  for  he  was 
beneath  the  law.  When  he  stole,  he  was  treated  like  the 
dog  who  had  robbed  his  master's  yard.  A  man  to  whom 
marriage  v/as  impossible  could  not  be  an  adulterer.  His 
only  law,  morality,  conscience,  was  the  will  of  his 
master ;  he  knew  no  other  rule  or  obligation  but  to  do 
his  will.  So  says  Menander  :  "Slave,  obey  the  orders  of 
thy  master,  just  or  unjust."  J  The  slave  has  not  the  right 
to  say  no.  II  According  to  Aristotle,  he  can  only  be  ex- 
pected to  exhibit  the  virtue  of  a  tool,  because  he  has  no 
free  will.  The  great  philosopher  went  so  far  as  to 
range  his  slaves  among  other  animals,  as  incapable  of 
citizenship.  All  this  harsh  legislation  was  based  upon 
a  very  distinct  doctrine.  If  Plato  seems  sometimes  to 
rise  to  the  realisation  of  the  fact  that  all  mankind  has  a 
common  origin,  he  nevertheless  accepts  the  degradation 
of  the  slave  as  a  social  necessity.     His  illustrious  suc- 

'  Plautus,  "Captiv."v.  50S. 

t  "Nee    servus   quicquam   debere    potest,    nee    servo  potest    del)eri." 
Ulpian,  1.  41,  d.  XV.  i.  +  Men.  apud  Stobe,  "Floril."  62,  10. 

§   Seneca,  "  De  benef.'' iii.  17. 


424  .     THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

cesser  took  even  stronger  ground  in  relation  to  slavery, 
affirming  that  it  was  an  ordinance  of  nature,  which  had 
created  some  beings  to  command  and  others  to  obey.  It 
is  nature  which  has  provided  that  the  being  endowed 
with  the  higher  mental  faculties  should  rule  as  master, 
and  the  being  adapted  by  his  corporeal  organisation  to 
execute  his  orders,  should  obey  as  a  slave." 

The  more  liberal  views  which  prevailed  under  the 
Empire,  and  the  dawning  recognition  of  the  dignity  of 
man  as  man,  left  their  traces  in  the  imperial  legislation, 
but  were  productive  of  very  inadequate  reforms.  The 
emperors  endeavoured  to  prevent  the  desertion  and  sale 
of  children  ;  the  creditor  was  no  longer  allowed  to  sell 
his  insolvent  debtor  ;  precautions  were  taken  against  the 
abduction  of  freemen,  and  against  piracy.  The  conquest 
of  the  world  was  almost  achieved,  so  that  there  were 
fewer  captives  to  make  bondsmen.  Jurisprudence  made 
the  attempt  to  give  some  sort  of  legal  rights  to  the  slave, 
raising  obstacles  to  the  separation  of  father,  mother, 
and  children,  when  these  were  being  transferred  or  sold. 
The  money  accumulated  by  the  slave  for  his  enfranchise- 
ment w^as  guaranteed  to  him,  and  it  rested  with  the 
masters  whether  or  not  he  might  be  allowed  to  bequeath 
anything.  The  slaves  might  even  carry  their  complaints 
before  the  tribunals  in  cases  of  outrage  or  cruelty,  but 
they  still  remained  liable  to  exceptional  punishments. 
Domitian  and  Adrian  made  the  mutilation  of  slaves 
unlawful.  The  latter  emperor  took  away  from  the 
slave -owners  the  right  of  life  and  death,  and  re- 
quired an  appeal  to  the  magistrates  before  the  slaves 
could  be  sold  as  gladiators.     The  right  of  finding  sanc- 

*  Aristotle,  "Polit."i.  2,  13. 


CHRISTIANITY   AND    SLAVERY.  -  425 

tuary  beside  the  statue  of  the  emperor  was  granted 
them.  The  imperial  legislation  gave  liberal  sanction 
to  the  formation  of  burial  clubs  among  the  slaves. 
The  formalities  of  enfranchisement  were  simplified,  and 
their  result  made  more  certain,  in  harmony  with  the 
noble  principle  of  Ulpian,  that  the  severities  of  law 
must  often  give  w^ay  to  the  demands  of  liberty.  The 
cause  of  the  slave  was  pleaded  in  the  name  of  hu- 
manity by  these  generous  lawyers,  who  breathed  into 
the  body  of  jurisprudence  the  spirit  of  the  Stoical 
philosophy."' 

But  these  changes  for  the  better  were  more  in  word 
than  in  deed.  For,  first,  they  never  went  so  far  as  to 
declare  the  equality  of  all  men  in  the  eye  of  the  law.  It 
was  idle  for  Ulpian  to  say  that  all  men  have  an  equal 
natural  right,  since  he  did  not  argue  from  this  premise 
that  the  civil  law  must  be  in  harmony  with  the  natural, 
but  admitted  that  the  slaves  formed  a  distinct  class  of 
mankind.  It  is  he  also,  who  in  treating  of  the  latent 
defects  invalidating  a  contract  of  sale,  likens  the  slave 
to  the  horse,  and  uses  this  brutal  expression:  "The 
slave,  or  any  other  animal  whatsoever. "t  Marcus  Aure- 
lius  spoke  of  the  gladiators  with  the  same  careless  in- 
difference 'which  he  would  have  shown  in  the  case  of 
wild  beasts. :|:  The  few  ameliorations  really  wrought  in 
the  condition  of  the  slaves  did  not  change  the  character 
of  the  institution  itself,  or  prevent  its  riding  rough-shod 
over  thousands  of  unhappy  beings.  The  sales  by 
auction  were  still  carried  on  under  the  Empire,  as  we 

*  See,  on  the  whole  jurisprudence  of  the  Empire,  Wallon's  book,  before 
quoted.     Vol.  iii.  c.  2. 

t   "Servus  vel  animal  aliud."     Ulpian,  "Dig."vi.  I,  15,  §3. 
Comm."  vi.  46. 


426  THE    EARLY   CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

gather  from  one  of  the  most  witty  dialogues  of  Lucian 
The  necessity  under  which  the  emperors  found  them 
selves,  of  constantly  enforcing  by  fines  the  decrees  which 
had  been  passed  in  favour  of  the  slaves,  shows  the 
powerlessness  of  this  legislation.  What  could  its  in- 
fluence be,  when  its  author  was  a  Nero  or  a  Domitian  ? 
Everything  that  tended  to  increase  the  general  depra- 
vity reacted  upon  the  slaves,  who  were  ever  at  the 
caprice  of  their  masters.  There  could  be  little  profit 
for  them  in  appealing  to  the  tribunals,  when  the  judges 
were  known  to  be  cowardly  or  corrupt.  It  is  remark- 
able that  the  informers,  who  filled  the  post  of  public 
accusers,  never  brought  forward  a  single  complaint  of 
the  infraction  of  the  imperial  decrees  in  favour  of  the 
slaves,  as  though  those  decrees  were  a  mere  dead  letter.* 
We  must  not  forget,  moreover,  that  while  the  humani- 
tarian principles  of  Seneca  are  fully  expounded  in  a 
treatise  on  Anger,  which  gives  the  most  fearful  picture 
of  the  condition  of  the  slaves  subject  to  all  the  barbarity 
of  their  domestic  tyrants,  the  civil  code  might  still  be 
summed  up  in  these  words:  Any  conduct  is  lawful 
towards  a  slave. 

If  we  make  a  few  honourable  exceptions  among  the 
Roman  aristocracy,  we  shall  have  to  adm'it  that  the 
graphic  picture  which  Plautus  gives  of  the  slavery  of  his 
day  is  still  true  in  the  early  ages  of  Christianity,  at 
least  in  its  main  features.  The  accumulation  of  wealth 
had  vastly  extended  the  system.  In  the  city  the  slaves 
could  not  be  numbered  :  they  filled  all  offices,  from  the 
meanest  and  most  servile,  to  those  which  brought 
them  into   personal  connection  with  their  masters.     In 

*  Allard,  "  I'Esclave  chretien,"  p.  115. 


CHRISTIANITY   AND    SLAVERY.  427  . 

the  fields  the  labour  was  made  doubly  galling  under 
the  lash  of  the  villictis,  a  kind  of  slave  overseer,  who  re- 
venged himself  for  his  own  slavery  by  cruelly  oppressing 
those  beneath  him.  The  class  thus  oppressed  was  the 
gemis  fermtile*  the  countless  crowd  of'  famished 
labourers,  who  were  goaded  on  to  their  daily  toil  by 
the  lash,  and  often  under  threat  of  death.  Their  ranks 
were  constantly  swelled  by  servants,  who,  in  punish- 
ment for  some  misdeed  or  want  of  skill,  were  sent  from 
town  houses,  to  turn  the  mills  or  languish  in  the  gaols. 

These  obscure  masses  were  kept  under  a  reign  of 
terror,  but  there  brooded  in  their  midst  a  dumb  desire 
for  liberty,  which  burst  forth  now  and  again  in  revolt 
and  massacre.  Judging  from  the  description  given  us 
by  Apuleius  of  the  slaves  in  the  country,  their  lot  was 
little  changed  since  the  days  of  the  ancient  comedy.  We 
see  them  clad  in  miserable  rags,  with  pallid  faces,  their 
backs  torn  with  the  lash,  with  shaven  heads,  a  mark 
set  on  their  brow,  and  their  feet  fettered  with  a  ring.f 
According  to  Seneca,  a  dull  despair  characterised  the 
slaves,  and  suicide  was  common  among  them.  The 
old  slave  in  the  comedy  of  Plautus  was  but  a  type  of 
the  whole  class,  when  she  explained  the  cause  of  her 
extreme  dejection  in  these  bitter  words  :  "  I  am  eighty- 
four  years  of  age,  and  I  am  a  slave. "J 

Death  was  a  lesser  evil  than  the  ignominy  which  was 
the  common  lot  of  the  female  slaves.  Slavery  was  the 
great  nursery  of  prostitution  and  debauch  in  every  form. 

*   Plautus,  "Mostellaria,"  V.  18. 
f  Apuleius,  "Metamorphoses,  "9.   Edition  Panckoucke,  ii.  19c. 
X  "  Annos  octoginta  et  quatuor, 
Et  eodeni  accedit  servitus." 

Plautus,  "Mercator,"  v.  666,  667. 


428  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

The  master  could  sell  at  will  the  women  and  young 
girls  belonging  to  him,  unless  he  chose  to  keep  them 
for  his  own  gratification.  These  victims  of  cruelt}^  and 
wrong  were  not  half-savage  creatures ;  they  w^ere  un- 
happy daughters  of  Greece  and  Asia,  possessing  all  the 
grace  and  charms  of  their  race.  The  law  gave  no  pro- 
tection to  the  female  slave  against  dishonour.  It  was 
understood  that  she  had  no  option,  if  her  master  made 
any  claim  upon  her  ;  that  he  might  even  lend  her  to 
whom  he  pleased.  The  free  woman  alone  had  the  right 
to  resist  the  solicitations  of  a  debauchee.  "  The  Julian 
law,"  says  Papinianus,  "  protects  the  honour  of  free 
persons  only."* 

Diocletian  exonerated  a  Roman  citizen  accused  of 
improper  conduct  towards  some  unhappy  women,  "  be- 
cause," said  the  emperor,  "  it  has  been  proved  that  the 
victims  of  his  misconduct  were  only  slaves,  not  free 
persons."!  The  position  of  the  children  who  had 
fallen  into  slavery  was  no  less  pitiable.  They  were  com- 
monly made  minions  or  gladiators,  as  is  shown  by 
innumerable  inscriptions  of  the  imperial  age.  Aban- 
doned by  fathers  whom  they  never  knew,  there  opened 
before  them  a  prospect  too  dark  for  description.  In  the 
vilest  quarters  of  Rome  were  to  be  found  these  deserted 
children,  the  offspring  of  some  of  the  noblest  families  in 
the  state. 

The  Nemesis  of  slavery  upon  the  oppressors  was 
swift  and  sure.  Through  it  the  Roman  people  learned 
to  despise  free  labour,  that  which  alone  is  productive, 
and  thus  sterility  spread  over  the  fruitful  land— the  land 

*  Papinianus,  "  Di^;^.  xlviii."  v.  6. 

t  Diocletian,  anno  290,  "  Cod.  Just."  ix.  9,  25.  Allard,  work  q-  ot  d, 
p.  174. 


CHRISTIANITY   AND    SLAVERY.  429 

of  harvests  and  of  heroes.  It  was  slavery  which  made 
the  descendants  of  those  heroes  cruel  and  cowardly  de- 
bauchees. It  was  slavery  which  corrupted  the  youth 
entrusted  to  its  charge,  whether  through  dastardly  fear 
of  irritating  a  future  master,  or  by  the  mere  contagion 
of  the  vices  natural  to  the  slave  class.  The  cry  of  the 
unhappy  father  to  his  slave,  ''  Wretch,  thou  hast 
ruined  my  son ! "  must  have  been  often  heard  in  Roman 
houses. 

The  enfranchisements  which  became  so  numerous 
under  the  empire  in  no  way  prepared  the  abolition  of 
slavery.  They  were  the  exceptions  which  confirmed 
the  rule.  For  a  long  time  the  freedman  enjoyed  only  a 
partial  liberty.  He  could  not  marry  as  he  pleased ;  his 
right  of  suffrage  was  restricted  ;  his  former  master  re- 
tained a  share  in  his  inheritance.  We  know  how  high 
the  freedman  raised  himself  by  dint  of  climbing.  He 
became  often  a  sort  of  maire  dit.  palais  under  the  Caesars, 
but  on  the  very  steps  of  the  throne  he  kept  the  heart 
of  a  slave.  There  was  no  power  to  change  his  nature 
in  the  famous  formula,  Liber  esto,  and  the  freedmen 
formed  the  most  degraded  portion  of  the  wealthy  classes. 
The  "  Trimalchio  "  of  Petronius  represents  them  truly 
in  their  private  life,  as  Narcissus  represents  the  parvenus 
of  the  political  world.  There  was  scarcely  a  more 
miserable  being  than  the  freed  woman  :  she  was  con- 
demned in  Roman  society  to  the  trade  of  a  courtesan, 
and  she  had  as  little  protection  from  wrong  as  the  slave. 
Plautus  gives  a  vivid  description  of  the  miserable  lot  of 
the  freed  woman  in  whose  heart  is  awakened  a  longing 
for  a  pure  and  disinterested  love.  "  You  talk  about 
your  heart,"  says  her  companion,  jeeringly.   **  Where  is 


430  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

it  then  ?    Women  have  no  heart."*    Matrons  alone  are 
entitled  to  a  chaste  affection. t 

Your  heart,  your  conscience,  where  is  it  ?  This  is  the 
question  addressed  with  bitter  irony  by  the  proud  pagan 
aristocracy  to  the  slave.  The  slave  is,  in  their  theory, 
nothing  but  a  body;:};  hence  they  do  not  hesitate  to  add, 
"  The  servile  head  has  no  rights. "§  The  deep  degrada- 
tion of  slavery  is  briefly  expressed  in  these  two  sayings. 
Sometimes  the  slave  has  lavished  on  him  all  the  care  a 
master  can  bestow,  in  order  to  cultivate  his  highest  gifts 
of  intellect ;  but  the  end  is  still  the  same — the  profit  or 
pleasure  to  be  made  out  of  him  by  his  owner.  It  can- 
not be  said  to  him,  Where  is  thy  wit  ?  for  wit  he  has, 
and  if  a  Greek,  wit  of  the  finest  order ;  but  it  will  still 
be  said.  Where  is  th}^  heart  ?  where  is  thy  conscience  ? 
He  is  still  a  mere  appendage  to  the  establishment,  he  is 
not  a  man  ;  there  is  no  thought  of  awakening  his  moral 
life,  and  treating  him  as  a  being  who  has  rights  and 
corresponding  duties.  After  lowering  him  as  a  slave, 
society  cannot  make  him  a  citizen  by  simply  giving  him 
his  freedom.  Do  not  even  free  men  become  servile  in 
soul  by  the  withering  contact  with  slavery  ?  As  to  the 
crowd  of  servants  who  herd  together  as  they  may  in  the 
towns  or  in  the  fields,  these  have  their  rations  given 
them  if  they  are  docile.  If  they  prove  rebellious,  they 
are  scourged  and  sent  to  the  mill  or  to  the  gibbet ;  but 
the  idea  never  occurs  to  their  owners  that  a  ray  of  intel- 

*  "  Quid  id?  unde  esttibi  cordolium?" 
Plautus,  "Cis 
t   "Matrons  magis  conducibile  est  istuc, 
Unum  amare."     Ibid.  v.  80,  81. 
X  ^Kevi]  Kal  OMnara.     These  words  refer  to  the  market  in  Athens  where 
slaves  were  sold.     Allavd,  work  quoted,  p.  148. 

§  "  Servile  caput  nullum  jus  habet."   Papinianus,  '*Dig."iv.  v.  3. 


CHRISTIANITY  AND    SLAVERY.  43  f 

lectual  light  might  be  cast  into  these  stagnant  deeps  of 
society.  The  masters  of  morality,  who  occupy  them- 
selves with  the  imperial  household  and  the  aristocracy, 
cannot  stoop  so  low.  Loudly  as  they  have  proclaimed 
the  manhood  of  the  slave,  these  are  not  the  men  who 
will  ever  treat  him  as  a  iellow-man,  and  open  to  him 
some  better  way  of  escape  from  the  dreary  darkness  of 
his  existence  than  mere  sensual  indulgence,  or  a  favour- 
itism scarcely  less  degrading  in  its  moral  effects. 

It  was  the  work  of  Christianity  to  give  the  dignity  of 
a  moral  being  to  the  abject  creature  who  was  still 
treated  as  outside  the  pale  of  humanity,  even  when  the 
disciples  of  a  lofty  philosophy  had  vindicated  for  him 
in  theory  certain  social  rights.  The  religion  of  the 
gospel  could  bring  nothing  less  than  universal  enfran- 
chisement, as  its  very  name  and  nature  indicated ;  for 
it  was  the  religion  of  redemption,  the  great  ransom  of 
the  captive  race  of  man.  It  regarded  every  son  of 
Adam  as  the  slave  of  sin,  and  offered  to  all  the  same 
deliverance  purchased  by  the  blood  of  the  cross.  Hence 
the  first  effect  of  Christianity  must  be  to  break  down 
the  hitherto  infrangible  barrier  between  free  men  and 
slaves,  since  it  laid  down  as  a  fundamental  principle 
that  all  were  found  by  nature  under  the  same  yoke, 
and  all  were  called  by  grace  into  the  same  liberty.  Let 
it  be  observed  that  this  was  not  merely  one  fine-spun 
theory  the  more,  in  a  time  w^hen  there  was  a  plethora 
of  such  theoretic  teaching.  Redemption  was  the  great- 
est of  all  realities  for  the  Christian,  verified  by  him  in 
constant  experience,  and  accepted  in  all  its  conse- 
quences. The  point  of  view  from  which  all  human 
things  were  regarded  was  thus  completely  changed,  and 


43-2  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

a  corresponding  social  transformation  must  follow  as 
the  effect  of  a  religion  which  was  thoroughly  practical. 
The  Church  set  itself  at  once  to  its  task  of  liberation 
and  reconstruction  :  or,  rather,  it  achieved  this  result 
almost  unconsciously,  and  without  systematic  effort,  by 
simply  fulfilling  the  duties  which  immediately  presented 
themselves  in  the  Christian  life.  The  Church  did  for 
the  slave  what  it  had  done  for  the  family ;  it  wrought  a 
moral  reformation,  without  coming  into  conflict  with 
the  legislation  of  the  Empire.  It  was  no  part  of  its 
spiritual  calling  to  proclaim,  or  to  demand  from  a  legal 
point  of  view,  the  abolition  of  slavery  :  to  have  done 
so  would  have  been  to  make  itself  a  political  power, 
and  to  enter  on  that  hazardous  game  of  force  which 
involves  the  cause  of  principle  in  the  uncertain  issue 
of  an  armed  struggle,  and  exposes  that  which  is  gained 
by  the  sword  to  destruction  by  the  sword.  Nothing 
could  have  been  easier  than  for  Christianity  to  proclaim 
a  servile  war,  if  it  had  turned  to  its  own  account  the 
muttering  wrath  which  was  working  like  secret  leaven 
in  the  hearts  of  the  oppressed  people.  More  than  once 
already,  before  this  period,  the  Empire  had  been 
threatened  with  one  of  those  great  rebellions  which 
were  but  a  savage  and  sanguinary  vengeance,  fruitless 
of  good  results.  To  stir  up  another  such  rebellion 
would  not  have  advanced  the  cause  of  universal  liberty 
one  step ;  and  in  it  Christianity  must  either  have 
perished,  or  have  ceased  to  be  the  religion  of  the  Spirit. 
Moreover,  the  slave  was  not  truly  liberated  who  had 
broken  only  his  material  bonds  ;  he  might  retain  all  the 
vices  of  servitude,  and  might  make  the  most  tyrannous 
use  of  his  newly-acquired  freedom  and  power.     Under 


CHRISTIANITY   AND    SLAVERY.  433 

such  conditions,  slavery  would  be  perpetuated  with  all 
its  horrors,  the  only  change  being  that  the  oppressed 
would  become  the  oppressor.  It  was  therefore  of 
supreme  importance  that  the  Church  should  not  pro- 
voke a  convulsion  of  society,  in  which  all  would  be 
risked,  and  all  lost.  We  see,  then,  ample  reason  why 
the  ancient  hierarchy  of  the  family  should  have  been 
sincerely  respected  by  the  Church,  and  why  the  slave 
who  sought  a  place  on  the  bench  of  catechumens  was 
required  to  bring  from  his  master  a  certificate  of  his 
good  conduct.*  This  requirement,  which  could  only 
be  carried  out  when  the  slave  came  from  a  Christian 
household,  was  a  natural  consequence  of  the  legal 
maintenance  of  the  institution,  for  it  would  have  been 
impossible,  without  breaking  entirely  the  bond  of  de- 
pendence between  master  and  slave,  to  have  accepted 
him  without  first  making  the  necessary  inquiries  of  the 
head  of  the  house  as  to  the  conduct  of  the  new  cate- 
chumen, and  then'  asking  his  approval  of  the  step, 
subject  always  to  the  final  judgment  of  the  Church. 
It  is  perfectly  clear,  then,  that  slavery  was  not  formally 
abolished  by  the  Church,  but  it  is  none  the  less  true 
that  the  institution  was  being  steadily  undermined  by 
the  change  wrought  within  it.  When  the  miserable 
creature  who  had  been  treated  hitherto  as  a  mere  tool, 
a  soulless  body,  was  raised  to  the  consciousness  of  his 
own  moral  dignity,  his  rights  and  duties,  the  pretext 
for  holding  him  in  slavery  was  removed;  and  Chris- 
tianity, appearing  first  as  the  protector  of  the  slave  in 
his  weakness,  was  constantly  tending  towards  his  com- 

*    Et     SovKoQ     loTl     TTlffTOV     Kul     f.p'OTCKJTlii     0     KVplOQ     aVTOV    EL    (JVVtvdoKtl. 

*' Const  Eccl.  Egypt."  ii.  40. 

29 


434  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

plete  enfranchisement.  The  Christian  home  was  in 
this,  as  in  all  other  aspects,  the  cradle  of  social  reform, 
and  it  was  by  its  fireside  that  the  idea  of  humanity- 
was  thus  vindicated  from  its  grossest  contradiction. 

The  first  thing  to  be  done  was  to  remedy  the  actual 
condition  of  the  slave,  not  using  him  merely  as  an  illus- 
tration in  a  philosophical  harangue,  but  taking  up  his 
cause  and  defending  him  from  the  ill-treatment  heaped 
upon  him.  In  spite  of  the  derision  of  Celsus,  Origen 
boldly  declares  that  Christianity  turned  by  preference  to 
the  outcasts  of  the  old  world,  beginning  with  the  slave, 
of  whom  no  one  had  thought.'''  The  Church  enjoins, 
before  all  else,  gentleness,  patience,  and  justice,  on 
those  who  are  masters  ;  it  requires  them  to  treat  those 
who  belong  to  them  as  men,  not  as  animals,  t  to  show 
them  all  equity  and  kindness,  and  never  to  fail  in  patience 
towards  them.  J  Harsh  treatment  to  a  slave  was  made 
a  sufficient  ground  for  excommunication  ;  the  name  of 
Christian  was  forfeited  by  those  who  ill-treated  their 
dependants. § 

Nor  was  it  enough  merely  to  give  protection  to  the 
slave  :  he  must  be  raised  morally,  instructed  in  the 
truth,  and  led  as  it  were  within  the  portals  of  light.  To 
this  end  the  Christian  master  must  be  willing  to  humble 
himself  to  become  the  voluntary  teacher  of  his  slave, 
aided  in  this  task  by  the  zeal  of  his  brethren.  This 
holy    and    difficult    duty  was   lovingly  fulfilled.     "  We 

*  Origen,  "Contra  Cels."  iii.  49. 

t  Ovce  }.dv  KaOdirep  viro^vyioic  rolg  oUtratg  Xpr,<rT^ov.  Clement, 
•'  Paedag."  iii.  1 1,  74. 

X  "  Servum  domino  patienlia  commendat."    Tertull.  "  De  patient."  15. 

§  ^evKToXoi  Kai  roXg  iavruiv  oiKiTaiQ  7rcv)]piOQ  Xpiofiti'Oi.  "  Const. 
Apost."  iv.  6. 


CHRISTIANITY   AND    SLAVERY.  435 

feel  ourselves  debtors  both  to  the  wise  and  to  the 
unwise,"  says  Origen.  "  We  refuse  no  one,  not  even 
the  common  slave.  We  turn  to  him  as  to  a  child  or 
ignorant  woman,  hoping  to  make  him  better."  *  Pam- 
phylus  of  Caesarea,  the  disciple  and  apologist  of  Origen, 
carried  the  education  of  a  young  slave  so  far  that,  after 
having  brought  him  up  to  his  own  level,  he  made  him 
wear  the  philosopher's  mantle,  to  show  that  he  had 
become  truly  an  adept  in  the  Divine  wisdom.  The 
slave  subsequently  followed  his  master  in  the  path  of 
martyrdom. t 

The  gospel  message  found  a  soil  well  prepared  to 
receive  it  in  the  broken  hearts  of  these  pariahs  of  the 
West.  As  soon  as  they  received  the  Christian  faith 
they  were  raised  to  a  level  with  the  freemen  in  the 
Church.  There  was  no  trace  of  social  difference  among 
the  Christians  in  the  hour  of  worship  :  %  in  the  house  of 
prayer  the  only  lines  of  separation  were  between  the 
catechumens  and  the  faithful,  and  between  the  sexes. 
Not  only  did  the  slave  break  the  bread  of  the  Com- 
munion with  his  master,  and  receive  from  his  hand  the 
commemoration  cup  of  blessing,  but  his  place  might 
even  be  above  his  master's.  He  might  have  been  long 
a  believer,  while  his  superior  was  as  yet  a  catechumen, 
or  under  some  disciplinary  humiliation.  Every  day 
such  strange  sights  were  to  be  seen — the  master  waiting 
at  the  threshold  of  the  house  of  prayer,  while  the  slave 
shared  in  all  the  privileges  of  full  Christian  worship. 
For  the  slave  who  could  bow  his  knee  side  by  side  with 
the  freeman  in  adoration  of  the  same  God,  there  could 

*  Origen,  "Contra  Cels."  iii.  49. 
t  Eusebius,  *'  De  Martyr.  Palest."  11.  |  "  Const.  Apost."  ii.  58. 

29  * 


43^  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN   CHURCH. 

be  no  more  the  galling  sense  of  dishonour  or  inferiority 
attaching  to  his  condition.  Thus  it  is  said  in  the 
"  Apostolical  Constitutions "  that  the  master  should 
love  the  slave  like  a  son  or  a  brother,  because  of  theii 
common  faith.'''  More  than  this.  The  slave  might  even 
accept  office  in  the  Church  if  called  to  it  by  the  votes  of 
his  brethren,  and  might  become  a  deacon  or  a  priest. 
The  live  coal  from  the  altar  touches  his  lips  no  less 
than  those  of  the  patrician  Cyprian,  and  he  may  become 
the  exponent  to  the  people  of  the  will  of  God.  Subse- 
quently, after  the  overthrow  of  paganism,  it  was  required 
that  slaves  holding  office  in  the  Church  should  first  be 
enfranchised  by  their  masters  ;  but  it  was  impossible  to 
make  such  a  requirement  before  the  time  of  the 
Christian  emperors.  It  is  certain  that  a  servile  origin 
was  not  regarded  as  any  obstacle  to  the  attainment  of 
the  highest  honours  in  the  Church.  Callisthus,  at  the 
commencement  of  the  third  century,  became  bishop  of 
Rome,  after  having  been  a  slave.  His  election  was  not 
disputed  on  account  of  the  lowness  of  his  former  state, 
but  simply  because  he  was  judged  guilty  of  certain 
crimes. t 

The  slave  being  thus  treated  in  the  Church  on  a  foot- 
ing of  perfect  equality,  of  necessity  found  his  lot  lightened 
also  in  the  Christian  home.  With  the  seal  of  God  set 
on  his  forehead,  he  was  conscious  of  an  inalienable  dig- 
nity. Beside,  the  religious  life  was  not  restricted  to  any 
sacred  day  or  place ;  it  made  itself  felt  in  all  the  daily 
walks,  and  domestic  piety  was  no  less  highly  esteemed 
than   public    worship.     At  the    hour  when   the  father 

*  "O  Ki'pwg  u  Tnariv  'ix^JV  oiKiT?]v  dyarrdroi)  ujq  v'lbv  rj  wf  ddiX^bv  did  tijv 
TijQ  TricTEwg  Koivwviav.      ''  Const.  Apost."  iv.  12, 
t  Allard,  work  quoted,  p.  230, 


CHRISTIANITY   AND    SLAVERY.  437 

assembled  his  household  for  praise  and  prayer,  the 
slave's  voice  was  heard  in  adoration.  His  "Amen" 
responded  to  the  petition  of  his  master,  and  his  hands 
were  lifted  up  to  the  Father  who  is  in  heaven,  the  Judge 
and  Avenger  of  the  oppressed.  Chrysostom  alluded  to 
the  most  beautiful  practices  of  the  previous  age  when  he 
said  to  the  father  of  the  family :  "  Thou  canst  not  teach 
Christian  doctrine  to  all  the  people,  but  thou  canst  make 
thy  slave  better.  I  am  but  once  or  twice  a  week  irf  the 
midst  of  you,  but  thou  hast  thy  disciples  constantly 
gathered  together  in  thy  home — thy  wife,  thy  children, 
thy  slaves."  * 

It  was  not  always  the  slave  who  was  thus  instructed 
by  his  master ;  often  the  master  was  led  by  his  own 
slave  into  the  way  of  truth.  Like  the  captive  Israelite 
maid,  who  sent  the  great  Syrian  captain  to  the  prophet, 
so  the  despised  slave  often  became  the  apostle  of  the 
house.  The  "  Acts  of  the  Martyrs  "  contain  abundant 
instances  of  masters  converted  by  their  servants. t  The 
pious  slave  who,  after  carrying  in  his  arms  the  father  of 
Monica,  helped  to  lead  the  daughter  to  God,  is  no  un- 
common type  in  the  annals  of  primitive  Christianity.;]: 
It  was  doubtless  often  by  the  mouth  of  a  slave  that  the 
gospel  was  proclaimed  in  those  obscure  and  miserable 
dwellings  which  called  forth  the  biting  raillery  of  Cel- 
sus,§  It  follows  naturally  that  the  slave,  being  admitted 
to  such  a  position  in  the  Christian  home,  was  no  longer 
denied  the  privilege  of  forming  family  relations  for  him- 
self. He  was  delivered  from  the  deepest  of  all  degrada- 
tion, that  of  being  treated  as  a  being  outside  or  beneath 

*  Chrysostom,  "In  princ.  act.  Homil."  iv.  2. 

t  Allard,  work  quoted,  p.  300.  I  Augustine,  "  Confess."  ix.  8. 

§  Origen,  "Contra  Cels."  iii.  58. 


438  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

the  moral  law.  He  might  be  condemned  by  the  Church 
for  adultery,  because  his  marriage  was  recognised  as  no 
less  lawful  and  sacred  than  that  of  the  free  man.  On 
the  same  principles  the  female  slave  could  be  no  longer 
exposed  to  the  caprice  of  her  master,  but  might  become, 
like  any  free  woman,  his  lawful  wife.*  The  great 
Christian  moralists  of  the  fourth  and  fifth  centuries 
only  perpetuated  the  traditions  of  the  preceding  age 
when  they  cast  the  shield  of  their  protection  over  the 
feeble  and  dependent.  Chrysostom  eloquently  declared 
the  seduction  of  a  slave  to  be  as  great  a  crime  as  that 
of  a  queen,  because  God  avenges  not  the  quality  of  the 
injured  person,  but  Himself;  t  and  Clement  of  Alexan- 
dria had  already  in  his  day  charged  masters  to  respect 
their  men-servants  and  maid-servants,  by  keeping  from 
them  every  corrupting  spectacle. f 

We  find  the  slave  treated  in  Christian  communities 
not  only  with  benevolence  but  with  respect.  Woman 
thus  treated  shows,  though  a  slave,  her  innate  purity 
and  modesty.  The  picture  which  Hermas  gives  us  of 
the  young  female  slave,  proves  how  she  who  was  once 
regarded  as  ihe  mere  toy  of  the  master  could  become  a 
chaste  and  noble  woman,  respected  and  beloved  as  a 
sister.§  Christianity  will  show  in  its  ranks  women  not 
less  courageous  than  the  Roman  Lucretia,  who  will 
gladly  meet  death  rather  than  infamy,  as  we  learn  from 
the  "  Acts  of  the  Martyrs."  This  charter  of  the  moral 
freedom  of  the  feeble  and  the  oppressed,  to  which  they 


*  YltaroQ  tav  txr]  TraWaKrjV,  d  fxsv  covXijv,  TravadaOo}  Kai  rofitf)  yai.idTij.i 
de  kktvdkpav,  tKyaf.idT<iJ  avT)]V  v6}.H{i.      "Const.  Apost."  viii.  22. 
t  Chrysostom,  "  In  I  Thess.  Homil."  v.  2. 

+  Kat  TovQ  oiKfTag  uihlaBai  xpU-     Clement,  "  Padag."  iii.  3,  34. 
§  "  Coepi  earn  diligere  ut  sororem."     Hennas,  "  Visio."  i.  I. 


)  £t 


CHRISTIANITY   AND    SLAVERY.  439 

have  appended  the  sacred  seal  of  blood,  is  nobly  ex- 
pressed by  Chrysostom  in  the  following  words  :  "  There 
are  limits  imposed  by  God  on  the  obedience  of  slaves  ; 
laws  which  they  are  not  suffered  to  transgress  show 
where  their  obedience  must  cease.  When  the  master's 
commands  are  not  contrary  to  the  will  of  God  he  is  to 
be  obeyed,  but  no  further,  and  herein  is  the  liberty  of 
the  slave."  "^^ 

Slaves  proved  themselves  not  unworthy  of  the 
Christian's  crown  of  martyrdom.  Blandina,  who  died 
joyfully,  torn  of  wild  beasts  in  the  arena,  was  a  young 
slave.  Evelpistus  the  slave  met  a  cruel  death  on  the 
same  day  as  Justin  Martyr,  and  with  no  less  of  courage 
and  composure. t  "  More  than  one  slave,"  says  Clement 
of  Alexandria,  ''has  finished  his  course  with  joy  by 
dying  for  the  faith,  in  spite  of  his  master."  X  Thus  the 
slave  took  his  place  among  the  heroes  of  the  faith,  and 
in  doing  so  vindicated  for  himself  a  perfect  equality  with 
the  freeman. 

Great  indeed  was  the  moral  change  thus  wrought  by 
Christianity  in  the  condition  of  the  slave.  It  had  given 
him  again  a  heart  to  love,  a  conscience  to  discern  the 
law  of  duty,  and  a  firm  will  to  obey  it.  Thus  he  took 
his  place  in  the  Church  as  a  creature  of  God,  one  of  the 
redeemed  of  Christ,  a  member  of  His  mystical  body,  a 
priest  and  a  king.  All  the  grades  of  the  spiritual  hier- 
archy stood  open  before  him  up  to  martyrdom,  the 
highest  of  all.  The  moral  equality  which  is  the  conse- 
quence of  this  inward  change  is  both  realised  in  practice 
and  affirmed  in   principle.     Lactantius,  who  is   a  sur- 

*  Chrysostom,  "In  I  Corinth.  Homil."  xix.  4,  5. 
t  "  Acta  S.  Justini,"  3.  +  Clement,  "  Strom."  iv.  8,  60. 


440  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

vivor  of  the  militant  Christianity  of  the  third  century, 
gives  clear  and  full  expression  to  this  equality.  He 
says  :  "  Neither  the  Romans  nor  the  Greeks  were  able 
to  maintain  even  justice,  for  they  had  established  con- 
ditions of  inequality  among  men.  Equity  must  be 
wanting  where  all  are  not  on  an  equal  footing  :  in- 
equality excludes  justice,  the  proper  sphere  of  which  is 
to  render  equal  all  men  who  have  received  life  under  the 
same  conditions."*  *'  Masters,"  says  Clement,  "  render 
justice  and  equality  to  slaves."! 

The  pagan  world  fully  recognised  the  significance 
of  this  great  m.oral  renovation.  "  The  legislator  of 
the  Christians,"  says  Lucian,  "  has  persuaded  them 
that  they  are  all  brothers."}:  When  the  great  cynic 
depicted  an  ideal  society  in  which  the  poor  and  the 
barbarians  could  acquire  the  right  of  citizenship,  pro- 
vided they  had  the  love  of  good  in  their  hearts,  and  in 
which  the  distinction  of  freeman  and  slave  was  no 
longer  known,  he  was  simply  painting  what  existed  in 
actual  fact  before  his  eyes.  § 

In  truth,  in  spite  of  all  the  prudence  which  it  was 
bound  to  observe,  in  order  not  to  go  beyond  its  proper 
spiritual  sphere,  primitive  Christianity  regarded  slavery 
as  an  abnormal  fact,  the  continuance  of  which  was  to 
be  deprecated.  ''We  teach  the  slaves,"  says  Origen, 
"how  they  may  gain  the  soul  of  free  men,  and  obtain 
by  faith  a  true  emancipation.  ||  By  what  right,  then, 
can  the  free  man  be  kept  in  slavery?"  The  great  Alex- 
andrian does  not  hesitate  to  draw  the  true  conclusion 

*  Lactantius,    "Div.  Inst."  v.  15.  f  Clement,    "  S trom. "  i v.  8,  67. 

X  Lucian,  "  Perigr."  13.  §  Ibid.    "  Hermotin."  24.^ 

il  Kai  6iic6rpi\pii'  VTTodsiKvvvai,  ttuiq  tXsvOtpov  avdkatovTiQ  ^povtjfia. 
Origen,  "Contra  Cels."  iii.  55. 


CHRISTIANITY    AND    SLAVERY,  44I 

from  the  principle  thus  laid  down,  though  he  does  so 
indirectly.  "  No  one,"  he  says,  "  under  the  Jewish 
economy  was  to  serve  more  than  six  years.  Could 
there  have  been  a  fairer  way  of  adjusting  the  rela- 
tions of  master  and  slave  ?  "  *  The  Jews  were  then 
right  in  retaining  their  own  legislation  ;  they  would 
have  been  to  blame  if  they  had  not  felt  its  superiority. 
If  the  Jewish  institutions  were  thus  commendable 
because  they  made  the  tenure  of  slavery  short,  it 
may  be  concluded  that  it  is  most  desirable  to  see  it 
disappear  altogether.  Such  was  in  truth  the  mind 
of  the  Church,  hence  it  always  favoured  enfranchise- 
ments ;  t  and  as  soon  as  the  age  of  persecution  was 
passed,  the  legislation  on  the  subject  of  slavery  became 
incomparably  more  lenient  and  humane.  The  union  of 
Christianity  with  the  Empire,  however,  complicated 
the  conditions  of  moral  reform.  The  Church  lost  much 
of  her  true  liberty  when,  no  longer  confining  herself 
within  the  sphere  of  private  life,  she  became  involved 
in  politics  at  a  period  when  the  State  was  still 
thoroughly  permeated  by  the  old  pagan  spirit.  Slavery, 
though  greatly  modified,  was  in  reality  consolidated 
by  the  union  of  the  Church  with  the  Em.pire  ;  for  reli- 
gious society  was  constrained  to  slacken  its  steps  to  the 
pace  of  the  rude  protector  on  whom  it  had  chosen  to 
lean.  Christian  preaching  endeavoured  in  vain  to  con- 
jure the  vices  of  the  institution,  but  the  seeds  of  justice 
and  charity  which  it  had  scattered  broadcast  over  the 

*  Origen,   "  Contra  Cels."  v.  42. 

t  In  the  Third  Book  of  the  "  Apostolical  Constitutions  "  the  Christian 
is  enjoined  to  use  his  property  in  freeing  the  slaves — pvofievoL  covXovg. 
"Const.  Apost."  iv.  17;  Wallon,  work  quoted,  ii.  p.  364;  Allard,  work 
quoted,  p.  321. 


442  THE    EARLY   CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

world  were  presently  to  spring  up  and  bear  fruit.  It  is  a 
humbling  reflection  how  many  ages  it  has  taken  man- 
kind to  realise  the  most  direct  results  of  the  principle 
of  moral  equality  which,  as  we  have  seen,  was  so 
deeply  rooted  in  the  Christian  conscience  in  the  da3^s 
of  its  early  independence,  before  its  persecutors  had 
become  its  powerful  and  perilous  protectors.  Some 
of  the  sources  from  which  slavery  was  fed,  however, 
finally  dried  up  ;  parents  were  no  longer  permitted  to 
desert  their  children,  and  unfortunate  alumni  ceased 
to  encumber  the  slave-market.  Help  towards  the  edu- 
cation of  their  children  was  granted  to  poor  parents.* 

§  2. — Christianity  and  Free  Labour, 

One  of  the  most  disastrous  consequences  of  slavery 
was  its  tendency  increasingly  to  degrade  free  labour. 
The  recognition  of  free  labour  was  the  death-blow  to 
slavery.  The  rich  were  accustomed  to  have  large 
domestic  establishments.  Every  Roman  lady  had  for 
her  toilet  a  whole  squad  of  male  and  female  slaves,  and 
an  equal  number  attended  at  every  meal,  each  having  his 
strictly  defined  duties.  The  garments  of  the  family  were 
made  in  the  house,  and  there  is  a  story  of  a  Ronian  patri- 
cian whose  changes  of  raiment  numbered  several  thou- 
sands. Troops  of  slaves  tilled  the  ground  under  the 
stern  oversight  of  the  villici.  The  table  of  the  Roman 
master  in  Rome  and  in  his  splendid  country  villas  was 
lavishly  provided.  While  in  the  towns  the  artisans 
found  no  opening  for  their  work,  small  proprietors  in 
the  country  were  ruined  by  the  large  estates,  or  momen- 

*  See  Wallon,  work  quoted. 


CHRISTIANITY   AND    FREE    LABOUR.  443 

tary  relief  was  given  by  the  system  of  loans  organised 
under  Trajan's  elementary  law  ;  but  from  the  beginning 
of  the  third  century  this  precarious  resource  seems  to 
have  failed,  and  the  famished  farmers  flocked  into  the 
towns.  The  rich  were  not  content  with  receiving 
merely  personal  service  from  their  own  slaves ;  they 
hired  them  out,  or  made  them  work  for  their  benefit. 
Entire  manufactories  were  supplied  with  men  in  this 
way.  We  must  not  be  misled  by  the  frequent  mention 
in  the  inscriptions,  of  corporations  of  artisans  :  even 
these  bodies  employed  slaves  in  the  same  way,  and 
thus  aggravated  the  terrible  pressure  that  was  crushing 
free  labour.  The  result  of  the  decrease  of  free  labour 
was  general  impoverishment.  Slave  labour,  which  has 
no  other  stimulus  than  fear  of  punishment,  is  neither 
hearty  nor  ingenious,  it  only  seeks  to  spare  itself; 
hence,  wherever  it  prevails,  the  soil  becomes  sterile, 
not  from  want  of  hands,  but  of  the  motive  to  fruitful 
activity.  From  this  cause  the  richest  soil  in  the  world 
became  incapable  of  supporting  even  the  population  of 
Italy,  which  had  to  depend  for  sustenance  on  corn  from 
Egypt,  so  that  a  storm  at  sea  might  bring  a  famine 
upon  Rome.  Men  of  the  lower  classes  who  were  not 
slaves  were  often  obliged  either  to  sell  themselves  as 
slaves,  or  to  work  with  slaves,  and  thus  share  in  the 
opprobrium  of  the  servile  condition.  If  they  escaped 
this  hard  necessity,  it  was  only  by  choosing  the  miser- 
able life  of  dependants  on  great  families,  hangers-on  in 
the  vestibules  of  rich  mansions,  earning  their  pittance 
by  swelling  the  train  of  the  insolent  patrician.  The 
greater  part  were  found  among  the  plebs  whom  the 
imperial  munificence  amused  in  the  circus,  after  having 


444  THE    EARLY   CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

fed  them  with  corn  from  Egypt.*  Those  who  were 
still  willing  to  work  sought  employment  in  the  theatre, 
the  circus,  or  in  some  of  the  trades  connected  with 
these  places  of  resort,  or  in  some  paltry  public  calling, 
like  that  of  the  crier  or  apparitor.  The  pagan  temples 
also  employed  a  number  of  men,  who  filled  various 
offices  in  connection  with  their  worship.  None  of 
these  occupations,  however,  were  held  in  very  good 
repute,  and  free  labour  was  emphatically  under  a  ban. 

This  had  ahvays  been  the  case  in  the  ancient  world. 
It  will  be  remembered  that  the  position  which  Plato 
assigned  to  artisans  in  his  Republic  was  so  low,  that 
he  confounded  them  in  fact  with  slaves.  It  would 
appear,  from  the  tone  he  adopts,  that  citizens  who 
occupy  themselves  with  public  affairs,  and  who  are  the 
guardians  of  the  law,  alone  stand  in  need  of  virtue. 
There  are  occupations,  according  to  Aristotle,  in  which 
a  freeman  could  not  engage  without  degrading  himself. 
Such  are  those  which  demand  especially  physical 
energy,  but  nature  creates  for  these  employments  a 
special  class  of  men  ;  these  are  those  whom  we  keep  in 
subjection,  that  they  may  labour  in  our  stead,  under 
the  name  of  slaves,  or  that  of  mercenaries,  f  Intelligent 
youths  are  not  to  learn  trades  which  require  manual 
toil.  "  Who  is  he,"  said  the  great  Socrates  himself, 
*'who  rules  the  popular  assembly?  Is  it  the  shoe- 
maker ?  is  it  the  public  crier,  or  the  tentmaker  ?  If  you 
think  slightingly  of  each  of  these  separately,  why 
should  you  not  despise  them  in  the  mass  ?  "  J  The 
discredit  thus  attaching  to  labour  had  been  constantly 

*  Friedlander,  "  Moeurs  Romaines, "  i.  275. 
t  Aristotle,  "  Polit."  vii.  8.  J  Xenophon,  "Memorabilia,"  xii.  17. 


CHRISTIANITY   AND   FREE    LABOUR.  445 

growing.  Claudius,  when  about  to  offer  an  expiatory 
sacrifice,  required  the  workmen  and  the  slaves  to 
retire.*  Lofty  and  generous  spirits  like  Plutarch 
were  at  one  on  this  point  with  bitter  cynics  like 
Lucian.t  While  to  the  latter  the  artisan  is  a  vile 
being,  meriting  contempt  by  the  simple  fact  of  labour- 
ing with  his  hands,  though  he  were  a  Phidias  or  a 
Praxiteles,  the  former  does  not  hesitate  to  speak  of 
manual  labour  in  these  terms :  "  We  admire  a  rich 
purple  dye,  but  we  regard  the  dyer  as  a  vile  artisan.":]: 

We  see  then  how  the  free  labour  of  the  poor  shared 
in  the  opprobrium  cast  upon  all  the  lower  grades  of 
society  under  the  Empire.  Christianity  came  to  work 
another  reform  in  this  department,  and  to  shake  off  the 
false  shame  which  paralysed  free  labour.  The  working 
classes  profited  at  least  as  much  as  the  slaves  by  the 
great  principles  of  human  equality  consecrated  by  the 
gospel  and  realised  in  the  Church.  There  they  stood 
on  the  same  footing  as  the  wealthiest  descendants  of  a 
proud  aristocracy,  rose  to  the  highest  offices,  and  gained 
their  patent  of  nobility  by  martyrdom,  Origen  takes 
up  the  cause  of  the  fuller  and  of  the  smith  no  less  than 
that  of  the  slave. §  ''The  humblest  Christian  opera- 
tive," says  Tertullian,  ''  knows  more  than  Plato  of  the 
nature  and  perfections  of  God."!|  "You  will  find 
among  us,"  "  said  Athenagoras,  "  ignorant  men  and 
artisans,  who,  if  they  v/ould  find  it  hard  to  define  in 
words  the  advantages  of  our  doctrine,  demonstrate  them 
plainly   by  deeds."1[    Surely  the    stigma  attaching  to 

*  Suetonius,  "  Claudius,"  i.  2.  f  Lucian,  "Somnium,"  9. 

I  Plutarch,  "  Pericles,"  2.  §  Origen,  "Contra  Cels."  iii.  35,  56. 

II  "  Deum  quilibet  opifex  Christianus  et  invenit  et  ostendit."   Tertullian, 
"  Apol."  46. 

U  Athenagoras,  "Legatio."p.  12.     Cologne  edition,  1636. 


446  THE    EARLY  CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

manual  labour  must  have  been  effectually  removed  by  a 
religion  whose  Founder  spent  His  youth  in  a  carpen- 
ter's shop,  and  whose  greatest  apostle  was  a  tent- 
maker,  who  was  not  ashamed  to  pause  in  the  midst  of 
the  glorious  labours  of  his  mission,  to  earn  his  bread  by 
the  sweat  of  his  brow,  that  he  might  freely  serve  the 
poor?  For  a  long  period  there  was  not  supposed  to  be 
any  incompatibility  involved  in  holding  office  in  the 
Church  and  at  the  same  time  carrying  on  a  trade. 
Scruples  on  this  point  did  not  arise  till  the  fourth 
century.  Thus  the  same  hands  which  blessed  the 
eucharistic  cup  and  the  bread  of  the  Communion  were 
ready  to  handle  the  workman's  tools.  The  stern  inter- 
diction by  the  Church  of  all  trades  connected  with 
idolatry  or  with  the  theatre,  purged  manual  labour  from 
the  vile  tasks  by  which  it  was  dishonoured  in  pagan 
life,*  and  thus  freed  from  that  which  was  unproductive 
and  degrading,  it  fulfilled  its  true  end.  The  Church 
prohibited  with  equal  rigour  the  indolence  which  wasted 
long  hours  of  the  day  on  the  steps  of  the  circus.  In 
order  to  guard  the  Christians  against  these  gross  plea- 
sures, so  delighted  in  by  their  fellow-citizens,  it  was 
found  necessary  to  multiply  exhortations  to  the  regular 
labour  of  the  workshop,  dwelling  on  its  true  dignity  in 
the  sight  of  God,  and  thus  rendering  it  easy.  The 
bishop  was  bound  to  make  every  effort  to  procure  work 
for  the  Christian  artisan  who  w^as  seeking  it,  and  espe- 
cially for  the  orphan  who  had  lost  his  natural  protec- 
tors.t  In  order  to  raise  manual  labour,  in  the  eyes  of 
the   Christians,  they  w^ere  taught  to  regard  it  as  pro- 

*  "Const.  Eccl.  Egypt."  ii.  41. 

fQ  lm(7KOTroi,  fispinvrjaare  rexviry  ipyop       "Const.  Apost. "  iv.  2. 


CHRISTIANITY   AND    FREE    LABOUR.  447 

curing  them  the  means  of  almsgiving.  "  Practise 
Hberahty,"  we  read  in  "Pastor  Hermas,"  "  and  aid  with 
the  fruits  of  your  labour  the  poor  who  come  to  you."* 

It  is  not  only  to  those  to  whom  it  is  a  necessity  of 
maintenance  that  manual  labour  is  recommended,  but 
also  to  all  pious  women.  Seeing  the  great  lady  diligent 
at  her  distaff,  the  humble  Christian  mother,  whose 
children  are  dependent  on  her  toil,  will  set  herself  with 
fresh  heart  to  her  daily  task,  and  the  artisan  will  feel  it 
no  shame  to  submit  to  the  universal  law  of  labour. 
Thus  was  inaugurated  one  of  the  most  important  refor- 
mations wrought  by  the  new  religion,  and  one  the  social 
consequences  of  w^hich  might  amply  refute  the  charge 
that  Christianity  made  men  useless  as  citizens. 

*  "  Exerce  bonitatem  de  fiuctu  laborum  luorum."   "  Pastor,"  ii,  Mund.  2. 


448  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH, 


CHAPTER  IV. 

CHRISTIANITY    IN    ITS    RELATIONS   WITH   THE    STATE 
AND   WITH    SOCIETY. 

The  ancient  idea  of  the  State  forms  the  basis  of  all 
pagan  society.  The  rights  of  individuals  are  completely 
sacrificed  to  the  interests  of  the  community  ;  the  res 
publica  is  alone  thought  worthy  of  consideration.  From 
this  follow  two  consequences.  The  first,  that  the  citizen 
alone  has  any  legal  rights  ;  the  mere  fact  of  birth  within 
the  bounds  of  the  city  confers  no  claim,  wife  and  children 
only  share  in  the  privileges  of  citizenship  as  the  depen- 
dants of  the  father  of  the  family  who  is  a  citizen.  The 
stranger  finds  himself  shut  out  of  all  civil  rights.  The 
second  consequence  of  the  principle  we  have  stated  is 
that  the  right  of  the  citizen  is  itself  limited,  and  must 
yield  to  the  authority  of  the  State,  even  in  those  mat- 
ters of  faith  and  opinion  on  which  ever}^  man  might 
claim  an  inalienable  right  to  judge  for  himself.  What 
is  called  liberty  in  classical  antiquity  is  never  what  we 
now  understand  by  the  term  :  it  is  a  collective  sove- 
reignty pressing  with  all  its  weight  on  the  individual. 
This  omnipotence  of  the  State  was,  under  the  Republic  at 
least,  regulated  by  law,  and  shared  between  the  political 
powers  which  balanced  each  other.  From  the  com- 
mencement of  the  imperial  era  it  was  concentrated  in 


RELATIONS    WITH    THE    STATE    AND    SOCIETY.       449 

one  individual,  and  swayed  by  his  arbitrary  and  often 
lawless  will.  If  the  provinces  at  a  distance  from  the 
centre  of  the  Empire  possessed  a  certam  local  indepen- 
dence, they  owed  it  onlv  to  the  fa':t  that  the  reins  of 
so  vast  a  rule  could  not  but  han^^  somewhat  loosely  in 
the  hands  of  the  Caesar;  but  wherever  his  authority 
made  itself  felt,  it  was  absolute  and  overwhelming^. 
The  Roman  State  was  the  gigantic  idol  to  which  every 
individual  claim  must  be  sacrificed.  Too  often  it  was 
like  a  Moloch,  greed}^  to  devour,  and  the  law  of  treason 
was  made  to  supply  the  victims.  Even  when  the  power 
was  in  the  hands  of  virtuous  and  moderate  princes,  the 
supremacy  of  public  over  private  interests  was  rigidly 
maintained.  On  this  point  the  Antonines  held  intact 
the  pagan  notion  of  the  State. 

"The  aim  of  reasonable  beings,"  says  Marcus  Aurelius, 
'*  is  to  conform  to  whatever  is  imposed  by  reason  and 
the  law  of  the  most  ancient  and  honourable  city  and 
government."  '■'  Every  citizen  is  in  his  eyes  a  mere 
complement  of  the  social  system — the  bee  exists  only 
for  the  sake  of  the  hive. 

The  autocracy  of  the  State  was  nowhere  more  op- 
pressive than  in  the  domain  of  religion,  on  which  it  had 
no  right  to  intrude.  Cicero  did  not  hesitate  to  declare 
that  the  only  gods  whom  the  citizens  were  free  to  adore 
were  those  recognised  by  the  State  :  Deos  publice  adscdtos. 
It  is  true  that  the  number  of  such  gods  was  great,  and 
every  day  augmenting ;  but  so  soon  as  a  religion  arose 
which  could  not  accommodate  itself  to  this  promiscuous 
worship,  the  conflict  broke  out,  and  a  determined  op- 
position was  for  the  first  time  offered  to  the  civil  power, 

*  Marcus  Aurelius,  *' Thoughts,"  ii.  16. 

3«    • 


450  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

We  have  traced  the  long  and  bloody  strife  between 
the  Roman  State  and  the  Church.  By  the  mere  fact 
of  refusing  to  yield  in  matters  of  conscience  to  the 
Roman  law,  the  Christian  introduced  into  the  world  an 
entirely  new  social  principle,  which  was  to  become  the 
foundation  of  civil  liberty,  by  circumscribing  the  power 
of  the  State  within  its  civil-  competence.  Christianity 
was  able. to  accomplish  this  great  task  because  the 
means  which  it  used  were  purely  moral,  and  it  never 
had  recourse  to  armed  resistance.  If  it  had  once  taken 
the  sword,  it  would  have  been  only  a  new  political 
power  rising  to  replace  the  old,  and  opposing  force  to 
force  in  a  sphere  in  which  the  conscience  of  the  indi- 
vidual alone  has  a  right  to  be  heard.  By  dying  for  his 
faith,  the  martyr  demonstrated  its  unconquerable  energy 
as  a  moral  motive,  and  showed  the  futility  of  force  in 
face  of  conviction. 

Christianity  was  not  satisfied  with  meeting  the  en- 
croachments of  the  State  with  a  simple  non  possumus. 
We  have  seen  how  it  grasped  in  theory  and  realised  in 
practice  in  the  domestic  life  the  grand  idea  of  the  one- 
ness of  mankind.  The  man  was  in  its  view  greater 
than  the  citizen  ;  the  claims  of  humanity  were  above 
those  of  the  State.  It  taught  that  man,  as  a  moral 
being  to  whom  God  had  given  both  duties  and  rights, 
might  never  abandon  this  sacred  trust ;  and  thus  the 
liberty  of  the  individual,  hitherto  unrecognised,  became 
sacred.  In  every  man,  whatev^er  the  accidents  of  his 
outward  position  and  civic  standing,  there  is  the  same 
moral  individuality,  which  in  God's  sight  is  a  precious 
thing,  since  by  it  the  man  may  become  one  with  Him- 
self.    He  cannot  therefore  be  treated  as  a  mere  wheel 


RELATIONS    WITH    THE    STATE    AND    SOCIETY.      45I 

in  a  machine,  part  of  an  inorganic  whole,  valueless  ex- 
cept as  connected  with  the  rest  :  he  has  a  destiny 
of  his  own  to  fulfil,  and  his  moral  freedom  may  not 
be  confiscated.  The  rights  of  individuals  are  for  the 
first  time  placed  above  the  interference  of  the  State. 
In  vindicating  these  rights  for  himself,  the  Christian 
claims  them  no  less  for  all  his  brother  men,  of  whatever 
race  or  rank,  for  the  artificial  distinctions  conferred  by 
relation  to  the  State  are  merged  in  the  broad  claims  of 
humanity.  It  is  indeed  the  true  mission  of  the  State 
to  harmonise  more  and  more  perfectly  natural  and  civic 
rights,  so  that  the  former  may  be  upheld  and  protected 
by  the  latter.  Truths  like  these,  which  were  recognised 
by  the  great  lawyers  and  thinkers  of  the  Empire,  form 
the  very  basis  of  the  Christian  idea  of  the  relations  of 
men  to  each  other,  and  they  receive  their  application 
wherever  the  gospel  is  accepted  as  the  rule  of  life.  Thus 
in  the  humble  obscurity  of  Christian  homes  is  com- 
menced and  carried  on  the  great  transformation  of  the 
idea  of  the  State,  the  principle  of  which  was  clearly 
grasped  in  the  early  dawn  of  Christianity,  though  its 
realisation  was  impeded  for  ages  by  the  union  between 
the  Church  and  the  Empire. 

The  new  religion  did  not  rest  content  with  the  im- 
plied acceptance  of  these  new  ideas  of  society :  it  ex- 
pounded them  with  perfect  clearness.  It  was  rather  in 
danger  of  being  carried  at  once  to  the  opposite  extreme 
of  the  ancient  notion  of  the  State,  and  of  asserting  the 
absolute  independence  of  the  individual  at  the  expense 
of  all  social  bonds.  It  cannot  be  denied  that  there  were 
sects  characterised  by  a  morbid  fanaticism,  to  which 
the  Roman  empire  appeared  altogether  the  work  of  the 

30  - 


452  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

evil  one.  Watching  from  day  to  day  for  the  return  of 
Christ  in  the  clouds,  these  Christian  devotees  confounded 
all  the  institutions  of  the  past  in  the  same  indiscrimi- 
nate condemnation,  and  earnestly  desired  the  destruc- 
tion of  the  State.  Montanism  in  its  ecstatic  rhapsodies 
heard  all  the  trumpets  of  the  last  judgment,  and  loved 
to  anticipate  the  horror  and  the  crash  of  doom.  But 
all  this  was  directly  opposed  to  the  true  teaching  of 
the  Church  and  to  its  prevailing  tone  of  thought :  its 
most  faithful  organs  did  not  so  belie  the  wisdom  of  its 
first  apostles,  who  even  under  a  Nero  proved  them- 
selves capable  of  distinguishing  between  the  hideous 
distortion  of  the  civil  power  and  its  true  idea  and  prin- 
ciple, and  spoke  of  the  State  as  a  Divine  institution. 
In  proof  of  this  they  made  it  a  duty  to  pray  for  the 
emperor  in  all  their  assemblies  for  worship.*  Thus  they 
gave  most  solemn  recognition  to  the  civil  power  as 
ordained  of  God.  They  ascribe  its  origin  not  to  the  son 
of  Saturn,  the  Jupiter  of  mythology,  but  to  the  Creator 
of  all  things.  Hence,  far  from  refusing  due  obedience, 
and  acting  the  part  of  rebels,  they  are  the  most  loyal 
subjects  of  the  State.  "  Caesar  is  more  to  us  than  to 
you  pagans,"  exclaims  Tertullian,  "  for  he  is  placed  on 
the  throne  by  our  God."t  That  which  thus  exalts  the 
dignity  of  the  State  is  at  the  same  time  that  which 
limits  its  power,  for  as  it  is  appointed  by  God  it  forfeits 
its  claim  when  it  fails  to  fulfil  its  end.  If  the  prince 
makes  use  of  his  authority,  not  to  uphold  justice,  but 
to  gratify  evil  passions,  he  becomes  a  tyrant,  and  con- 
sequently places  himself  in  opposition  to  the  very  idea 

*  Tertullian,  "  Apol."  c.  32. 

t  "Etmerito  dixerim  :  Noster  est  magis  Caesar  ut  a  nostro  Deo  con- 
stitutus."     Ibid.  33. 


RELATIONS   WITH    THE    STATE   AND    SOCIETY.       453 

of  the  State  as  instituted  by  God.'''  Most  of  all  does 
the  civil  power  betray  its  trust  and  belie  its  design  when 
it  seeks  to  make  the  religious  conscience  bend  to  its 
laws.  Obedience  is  to  be  rendered  to  every  just  demand 
of  the  State,  but  when  that  which  it  requires  cannot  be 
yielded  without  injustice  or  apostasy  from  the  faith, 
resistance,  or  rather  the  refusal  to  obey,  becomes  a 
duty.  The  civil  law  is  to  be  observed  when  it  is  in 
harmony  with  the  moral  law,  but  when  these  two  come 
into  collision,  the  former  is  always  to  be  preferred  to 
the  latter;  and  the  Christian  is  bound,  as  Origen  has 
powerfully  said,  to  despise  the  will  of  the  human  legis- 
lator, and  give  obedience  only  to  the  Divine. t  It  is 
clearly  understood,  however,  that  resistance  is  to  be 
simply  moral,  and  is  never  to  take  up  the  weapons  of 
human  warfare.  "  Our  kingdom,"  say  the  Christians, 
"  is  not  an  earthly  kingdom.  We  seek  only  the  king- 
dom of  God. "J  These  words  of  Justin  Martyr,  sealed 
with  torrents  of  blood,  sufficed  to  wrest  from  the  an- 
cient State  the  dominion  of  soul  and  conscience,  and 
to  establish  the  private  rights  of  individuals.  "  Every 
man,"  says  Tertullian,  "receives  from  the  law  of  nature 
liberty  to  worship  that  which  seems  good  to  him. 
What  has  another  man  to  do  with  my  religion  ?  "  § 
From  this  principle  follows  the  neutrality  of  the  State 
in  religious  matters;  it  has  no  authority  in  questions 
of  conscience,  and  the  work  it  is  appointed  by  God  to 
do  forbids   its   intermeddling  with   them.      It  is  a  lay 

*  Origen,  "Contra  Cels."  viii.  68.  f  Ibid.  v.  37. 

X  Justin,  "  Apol."  ii.  58. 

§  "  Humani  juris  et  naturalis  potestatis  est  unicuique,   quod  putaverit, 
colere."     Tertullian,  "  Ad.  Scapul."  2. 


454  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

government  just  because  it  is  not  atheistic.  Christian 
thought  rose  at  once  to  the  loftiest  conception  of  the 
modern  State.  The  Christians  proved  that  they  ac- 
knowledged the  competence  and  the  right  of  the  State, 
by  consenting  to  plead  their  cause  before  it.  Every  apo- 
logy opens  W'ith  an  act  of  submission  to  the  powers  that 
be,  from  whom  an  equitable  judgment  is  desired:  the 
true  character  of  the  authority  is  thus  clearly  recognised. 
In  short,  Christianity  never  sought  to  place  itself  be- 
yond the  pale  of  the  law,  and  to  break  with  civil  society, 
as  if  it  constituted  a  brotherhood  of  latter-day  saints, 
shaking  off  the  dust  of  their  feet  against  an  accursed 
world.  When  accused  of  withdrawing  from  common 
life,  and  being  useless  to  the  Empire,  the  Christian  pro- 
tested vigorously.  His  prayers  alone  were  the  surest 
palladium  of  his  country.* 

In  principle,  at  least  in  its  most  moderate  school,  the 
Church  allowed  its  members  to  fulfil  all  their  duties  as 
citizens,  and  placed  no  hindrance  in  the  way  of  their 
holding  offices.  *'  It  is  lawful,"  says  Clement  of  Alex- 
andria, '*  to  take  a  part  in  public  affairs;  nor  is  there 
any  prohibition  on  attending  to  the  things  of  this  world, 
provided  all  be  done  honestly,  and  that  in  buying  and 
selling  there  be  but  one  price."  t  Trade  is  legitimate, 
on  condition  that  no  oaths  be  taken  with  a  view  to 
deceive.  It  must  be  admitted,  nevertheless,  that  in 
practice  this  large  liberty  granted  to  Christians  to  take 
part  in  common  life  met  with  many  obstacles.  It 
was  very  difficult  to  fulfil  any  public  office  without 
coming  in  contact  with  some  of  the  rites  of  the  general 

*  Origen,  "  Contra  Cels."  viii.  73. 
f  UoXiTtvaaaQai  i^uv.     Clement,  "  Paedag. "  iii.  II,  7^* 


RELATIONS   WITH    THE    STATE   AND    SOCIETY.      455 

idolatry,  or,  at  least,  being  obliged  to  adopt  some  of  its 
formulas.  Thus  this  definition  of  the  duties  of  the 
citizen  and  the  pubHc  man  was  more  important  for  the 
future  than  for  the  present ;  it  could  only  come  into  full 
operation  in  a  new  state  of  society,  when  the  ordinary 
duties  of  life  should  have  been  dissociated  from  the  wor- 
ship of  false  gods.  It  was  this  condition  of  things  which 
made  the  ascetic  party  in  the  Church  prevail  over  the 
broader  and  more  human  section  ;  its  error  was  that  it 
gave  the  sanction  of  permanent  principles  to  practices 
which  were  only  necessitated  by  the  difficulties  of  a 
state  of  society  still  pagan.  It  was  very  difficult  for  the 
man  who  had  risen  to  the  higher  grade  of  the  social 
hierarchy  to  continue  true  to  his  faith.  The  constitu- 
tion of  the  Church  of  Egypt  excludes  even  from  the 
place  of  catechumen  any  one  who  has  the  power  of  the 
sword,  or  who  wears  the  purple  of  a  ruler  of  the  city.''' 

Such  offices  under  a  Pagan  government  appeared 
incompatible  with  a  Christian  profession  ;  but  this  pro- 
hibition was  of  course  only  temporary,  and  incident  to 
a  transitory  condition  of  things.  As  early  as  the  close 
of  the  third  century  there  were  Christians  holding  im- 
portant offices  in  the  court  of  Diocletian,  but  these  had 
no  security  for  their  lives  in  any  outbreak  of  persecution 
for  the  faith.  +  The  Church  found  the  greatest  difficulty 
in  dealing  with  cases  of  military  service.  It  is  well 
known  how  intimately  this  was  associated  with  the 
national  religion.  The  altar  of  sacrifice  was  ever  smok- 
ing in  the  camp ;  every  important  military  movement 

*  'O  jiaxalpag  t^ovaicii'  fX"^''  n  "oXfoif  ap^wj'  -np(pvpqaj.i(pievvvfi£voe  irav- 
aaarti)  r)  d-rro^aWhOoj.      "  Const.  Eccle?.  Egypt."  ii,  41. 
t  Eusebius,  "  H.  E."  viii.  2. 


456  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

was  inaugurated  by  religious  rites;  the  legion  wor- 
shipped its  eagles  as  its  tutelary  gods.  The  religion  of 
the  Prince  of  peace,  moreover,  could  lend  no  sanction  to 
wars  not  purely  defensive.  The  spirit  of  conquest  was 
in  flagrant  opposition  to  the  gospel  teachings  of  the 
sacredness  of  human  life.  *'  Is  not  Christ  among  the 
barbarians  also  ?  "  exclaims  Tertullian.*  "  What  is 
represented  by  the  laurels  of  the  conqueror's  crown  but 
the  tears  of  mothers  and  orphans  ?  And  shall  the  son 
of  peace,  to  whom  all  contention  is  forbidden,  march  to 
battle,  drag  captives  to  prison,  and  use  the  instruments 
of  torture,  when  he  is  taught  not  to  avenge  even  offences 
offered  to  himself?  Shall  he  be  seen  standing  sentinel 
in  the  temples  which  he  has  abandoned,  leaning  on  the 
spear  which  pierced  the  side  of  Christ  ?  Shall  he  bear 
another  banner  than  that  of  Christ  ?  "  t  If  the  stern  law 
of  necessity  is  pleaded  in  reply,  the  ardent  Christian 
answers  that  neither  for  himself  nor  others  does  he 
acknowledge  any  such  rule. 

Neither  the  discipline  of  the  Church  nor  the  precepts 
of  the  gospel,  however,  went  so  far  as  thus  totally  to 
condemn  military  service  ;  but  it  is  obvious  that,  tainted 
as  it  was  under  the  Roman  Empire  with  cruelty  and 
idolatry,  Christianity  could  not  look  favourably  upon 
it.  Origen  wished,  indeed,  that  Christians  might 
be  contented  to  serve  the  State  by  forming  a  praying 
host,  instead  of  being  compelled  to  go  into  camp  life.t 
The  Church,  animated  by  the  same  sentiment,  did  not 
go  so  far  as  to  interdict  military  service  as  a  sin,  but  it 
only  sanctioned  it  in  cases  of  compulsion.    This  appears 

*  "  Et  apud  Barbaros  eiiim  Chrlstus."     Tertullian,  "De  coron.'*  12. 
t  Ibid.  II.  +  Origen,  "Contra  Cels."  viii.  73. 


RELATIONS   WITH    THE    STATE    AND    SOCIETY.       457 

from  a  rule  in  the  constitution  of  the  Egyptian  Church. 
"  The  catechmuen  or  behever  who  chooses  to  be  a  soldier 
shall  be  cut  off.*  One  who  has  been  enlisted  without  his 
own  free  will  does  not  fall  under  the  same  condemnation  ; 
he  is  only  enjoined  to  respect  human  life  as  far  as 
possible.  Let  the  soldier  who  is  under  command  never 
voluntarily  kill  a  man,  and  if  he  is  ordered  to  do  so  let 
him  not  obey  with  haste.  If  he  takes  life  without  being 
compelled  to  do  it,  let  him  be  excluded. "t 

In  order  to  apprehend  the  bearing  of  these  disciplinary 
measures,  it  must  be  remembered  that  under  the  Empire 
military  service  was  not,  as  formerly,  obligatory.  The 
Italians  were  exempted,  and  in  the  provinces  there  was 
no  personal  conscription,  and  freedom  from  service 
could  be  secured  by  finding  a  number  of  recruits  pro- 
portionate to  the  means.  It  was,  therefore,  perfectly 
easy  to  avoid  serving.  Subsequently  the  emperors 
contented  themselves  with  a  payment  in  money,  which 
enabled  them  to  hire  mercenary  soldiers.!  By  choosing 
the  calling  of  a  soldier,  a  Christian  exposed  himself  to 
all  the  temptations  of  camp  life,  and  showed  a  disposi- 
tion altogether  opposed  to  the  spirit  of  his  religion. 

The  Church,-  in  condemning  those  who  chose  the 
career  of  arms,  while  at  the  same  time  not  condemning 
those  who  had  been  forced  to  enrol  themselves,  but  only 
enjoining  them  to  abstain  from  all  violence  and  rapine, 
showed  as  much  wisdom  as  moderation.  Christianity 
has  ever  been  the  foe  of  all  wars  of  conquest,  though 

KaT7]xovnsvog  7)  TrKTTOQ  arpaTiojTai  eivai  eTnOvfiovvreg  airotaSXhaOitxrav. 
"Const.  Eccles.  Egypt."  ii.  41, 

t  'SlTpaTioJTtji;  kv  iiovaia  u)v  dvOptDTrov  /xt)  diroKTSivsTo,  edv  6e  KaXfvaOtjy  /xtj 
(TTrtvSsTU)  ixoLHV'   fjLt)  TT^idof-iivoi,   it  UTTotaWkaQit).      Ibid.  ii.  14. 

X  See  Duruy,  "  Histoire  des  Ronjcin^),"  v.  284. 


458  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

it  relaxed  in  later  times  the  severe  restrictions  which 
were  necessary  under  a  pagan  rule.  When  in  after 
days  the  Church  came  to  regard  an  armed  force  as  the 
sword  of  the  State,  stretched  out  not  only  to  guard  the 
soil  of  the  fatherland  but  to  protect  the  right,  it  no 
longer  looked  upon  military  service  as  an  inferior  and 
well-nigh  sinful  calling ;  though  the  spirit  of  conquest 
has  unhappily  too  often  manifested  itself  in  all  its 
rapacity  and  iniquity,  even  in  the  midst  of  modern  civi- 
lisation. It  is  nevertheless  true  that  the  principles 
which  form  the  glory  of  that  civilisation  were  pro- 
claimed, and  so  far  as  possible  practised,  by  the  Chris- 
tians of  the  first  ages.  The  true  relation  between 
Christians  and  the  State  is  expressed  in  TertuUian's 
words  :  "In  order  to  render  to  Csesar  that  which  is 
Caesar's,  and  to  God  that  which  is  God's,  we  must  give 
to  the  emperor  the  money  which  bears  his  effigy,  and  to 
God,  man  himself,  made  in  His  image.** 


459 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE    CHURCH    AND    SOCIAL    LIFE — THE     THEATRE — ART. 

§  I. — The  Theatre. 

If  the  idolatry  which  permeated  the  whole  of  pagan 
society  rendered  it  difficult  for  the  Christians  to  dis- 
charge their  civic  duties,  it  still  more  deeply  tainted  the 
popular  recreations  under  the  Empire.  In  the  sphere  of 
aesthetics,  as  in  every  other,  the  new  religion  proved 
itself  creative  and  inventive,  but  it  needed  first  to  make 
free  use  of  the  axe  and  pruning-knife  in  the  enchanted 
forest  of  ancient  art,  and  to  cut  away  unsparingly  all 
the  poisonous  parasitic  vegetation  which,  like  the  bril- 
liant flora  of  some  marshy  lands,  exhaled  only  fever 
and  death.  There  was  especially  one  form  of  artistic 
representation,  and  that  which  exercised  the  widest 
fascination  in  pagan  society,  with  which  Christianity 
could  make  no  compromise. 

The  theatre,  and  all  more  or  less  closely  connected 
with  it,  had  become  a  grand  school  of  corruption  and  of 
wrong:  it  was  the  fruitful  centre  of  every  sort  of  sin.* 
A  vast  distance  separated  it  from  the  glorious  school  of 
^schylus  and  Sophocles,  which  at  Athens  had  graven 
in  marble,  pure  as  that  sculptured  by  Phidias,  the 
noblest  ideal,  and  had  consecrated  in  immortal  verse 

*  Friedlander,  "  Mceurs  Romaines,"  voL  ii.  book  6. 


460  THE    EARLY   CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

the  great  oracles  of  conscience.  The  Greek  Melpomene, 
who  alighted  from  the  chariot  of  Thespis,  had  been 
a  true  priestess  of  the  country  and  a  prophetess  of  the 
moral  law.  Undoubtedly,  even  at  that  period,  the 
comic  muse  had  shamelessly  outraged  public  decency 
by  language  which  was  a  blot  on  its  graphic  pictures  of 
human  nature,  and  on  the  sweet  music  of  the  "  Birds" 
and  the  "  Clouds."  At  Rome  the  theatre  never  rose  to 
the  height  of  the  great  Athenian  art :  its  tendency 
under  the  Empire  was  constantly  downwards.  The 
solemn  imitations  of  the  tragic  Seneca  had  pleased 
only  the  lovers  of  declamation.  Plautus,  and  still 
more  Terence,  demanded  some  effort  of  mind  to  follow 
their  carefully  elaborated  pieces,  in  which  there  was  a 
studied  unity  of  plot  and  fitness  of  form.  The  popular 
taste  affected  more  and  more  the  coarse  and  violent 
representations  of  the  circus.  The  theatre,  properly 
speaking,  only  pleased  the  spectators  by  pantomimes, 
or  by  grand  ballets,  in  which  were  enacted  the  loves 
of  Jupiter,  and  in  which  Venus  appeared  as  a  very 
Phryne.  Success  was  the  reward  of  vileness.  Apuleius, 
who  has  given  us  a  very  fascinating  analysis  of  a  panto- 
mime of  the  Judgment  of  Paris,  shows  in  his  "  Meta- 
morphoses "  to  what  a  length  had  gone  both  the 
degradation  of  the  public  taste  and  the  tolerance  of  the 
civil  authorities.  In  a  time  when  public  life  in  the 
forum  had  ceased,  great  assemblies  of  men  were  drawn 
together  only  by  the  spectacles.  The  surest  way  for  a 
man  to  gain  favour  in  his  native  town  was  by  multiply- 
ing representations  in  the  theatre,  and  the  lowest  tastes 
of  the  populace  must  be  gratified,  or  the  most  lavish 
expenditure   would   not  ensure   success.     Even  volup- 


THE    THEATRE.  461 

tuous  pantomimes  soon  lost  their  charm,  and  blood 
must  be  drawn  to  tickle  the  taste  of  this  blase  generation, 
which  had  witnessed  such  sudden  changes  of  fortune  in 
the  political  tragedies  of  its  day. 

The  racecourse  —  where  the  athletic  sports  bore 
some  resemblance  to  the  Olympic  games,  that  had 
done  so  much  to  develop  that  manly  beauty  which 
was  the  glory  of  the  Greeks  —  never  met  with  more 
than  moderate  success  in  Rome.  The  old  republican 
severity  of  manners  left  a  lingering  repugnance  for 
these  combats  of  nude  men ;  and  in  later  times  this 
pleasure  seemed  tame  in  comparison  with  the  more  pe- 
rilous conflicts  for  which  the  craving  had  been  aroused. 
Nero,  who  affected  to  imitate  Greece,  only  succeeded  in 
creating  by  command  a  fictitious  enthusiasm  for  musical 
entertainments.  When  it  ceased  to  be  dangerous  to  life 
and  limb  not  to  applaud  the  imperial  artist,  no  more 
interest  was  shown  in  this  sort  of  amusement.  It  was 
not  possible  often  to  enliven  its  monotony  by  the  con- 
flagration of  half  the  city  and  the  carrying  about  of  living 
men  as  torches.  The  chariot  races  met  with  a  far 
greater  success,  and  excited  the  passions  as  strongly  as 
the  closest  political  struggles.  Factions  were  formed 
around  each  famous  whip,  and  the  whites  and  the  greens 
troubled  the  capital  of  the  world  with  their  rivalries  as 
much  as  Caesar  and  Pompey  had  ever  done. 

But  the  spectacle  which  surpassed  all  others  in  at- 
traction was  the  circus,  where  human  blood  flowed  in 
torrents.  There  was  no  town,  small  or  great,  where 
these  cruel  spectacles  were  not  given,  but  at  Rome 
they  reached  their  climax  of  horror.  The  emperors 
favoured  them,  as  a  powerful  diversion  to  the  instincts 


462  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

of  revolt  which  might  be  lurking  among  the  dense 
masses  of  their  capital.  That  deep  saying  of  an  actor 
to  Augustus,  *'  It  is  as  needful  to  thee  as  to  us  that  the 
people  should  be  taken  up  with  us,"  was  an  epitome  of 
the  policy  of  all  despotic  governments.  The  sums 
which  the  emperors  devoted  to  the  games  of  the  circus 
were  incalculable.  The  Coliseum,  the  colossal  circus, 
as  its  name  indicates,  would  hold  nearly  400,000. 
Fifteen  hundred  pairs  of  gladiators  could  be  seen  wrest- 
ling at  once.  Sometimes,  instead  of  the  combats  be- 
tween men,  maritime  battles  were  enacted  upon  a  sea 
suddenly  poured  upon  the  scene  from  vast  reservoirs. 
The  wild  beasts  brought  from  Africa  only  awaited  the 
opening  of  their  cages  to  rush  upon  the  victims.  The 
gladiators  formed  a  great  army.  With  the  exception 
of  the  reitarii,  who  had  only  a  net  wuth  which  to  enclose 
their  enemy  and  a  spear  to  pierce  him,  they  were  clad 
in  brilliant  armour.  They  were  received  with  acclama- 
tion as  heroes ;  but  if  they  fell,  the  spectators  rarely 
made  the  saving  sign  which  would  have  spared  them 
the  final  blow,  though  sometimes  in  the  dying  face 
might  be  read  that  look  of  proud  and  hopeless  sorrow 
which  lives  again  in  immortal  marble,  and  which  a 
writer  of  our  day  has  described  in  such  pathetic  words. 
There  were,  doubtless,  many  volunteers  among  the 
gladiators,  men  of  ardent  temperament  and  fierce 
courage,  to  whom  it  was  pleasure  to  risk  their  lives  in  the 
fond  hope  of  a  victory  to  be  largely  recompensed.  But 
the  greater  number  were  unhappy  slaves,  doomed  to 
this  butchery  by  their  masters,  wdio  would  make  gain 
and  glory  out  of  their  blood.  We  find  Marcus  Aurelius, 
indeed,  prohibiting  the  sale  of  slaves  for  the  purposes  of 


THE    THEATRE.  463 

the  circus,  but  he  did  not  forbid  masters  to  take  there 
their  own  slaves,  and  he  himself  was  obliged  to  tolerate 
these  sanguinary  representations. 

By  an  odious  profanation  of  justice,  men  condemned 
to  death  were  made  to  pander  to  the  public  amusement 
in  the  execution  of  their  sentence.  War  was  also  a 
grand  purveyor  for  the  circus :  prisoners  taken  in  battle 
were  made  to  perform  there  for  the  gratification  of  their 
captors.  We  can  conceive  the  bitter  anguish  of  those 
among  them  who  could  not  forget  their  dignity  as  men 
or  their  homes  and  families  :  they  often  chose  to  die 
rather  than  to  submit  to  such  ignominy.  It  is  said  that 
the  high-souled  Britons  performed  the  melancholy  task 
of  killing  one  another,  that  they  might  not  be  exposed 
to  the  shameful  death  that  awaited  them.  Never  did 
the  pagan  world  show  a  more  insolent  contempt  for  the 
rights  of  humanity  and  the  dignity  of  moral  beings,  than 
when  it  thus  constrained  thousands  of  men  to  become 
at  once  the  instruments  and  the  victims  of  its  sanguinary 
pleasures.  Cicero  himself,  in  spite  of  his  sublime  words 
about  the  love  of  the  human  race,  congratulated  his 
friend  Atticus  on  having  provided  many  pairs  of  gla- 
diators. Seneca  alone  spoke  with  indignation  against 
the  circus,  but  it  was  a  vain  protest;  and  Antonines 
like  Trajan  continued  to  pander  to  the  morbid  appetites 
of  an  enervated  people,  who  seemed  only  to  live  them- 
selves as  they  saw  others  suffer  and  die. 

Every  taste  found  gratification  in  the  circus.  Dis- 
tributions of  meat  and  game  were  made  by  order  of  the 
emperor.  Syrian  women  there  performed  their  wanton 
dances.  The  circus  itself,  with  its  spectators,  many  of 
them  sumptuously  arrayed,  its  architectural  splendour. 


464  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

and  the  grand  coup  d'ceil  of  an  assembly  of  several 
hundred  thousands,  was  the  marvel  of  the  age.  Every 
writer  of  the  time  speaks  of  the  attraction  it  exercised 
over  the  Romans  of  the  Decline.  As  they  sat  upon  the 
steps  of  the  theatre  beneath  a  burning  sun,  breathing 
a  moral  atmosphere  of  feverish  excitement,  watching 
in  security  the  vicissitudes  of  a  real  battle,  gloating  over 
the  sufferings  of  the  wretches  whose  blood  crimsoned 
the  arena,  delighting  in  their  death,  as  Tacitus  has 
said ;  then  witnessing  the  all  too  vivid  representation  of 
some  scene  of  adultery,  sheltered  under  the  name  of 
an  Olympian  god,  and  performed  to  the  rhythm  of 
melodious  music;  while  the  Numidian  lion  was  roaring 
in  his  cage,  impatient  to  devour  his  prey  waiting  in 
the  condemned  cell ; — as  thus  they  sported  with  death, 
the  people  became  themselves  the  most  cruel  of  wild 
beasts,  and  never  did  African  desert  resound  with  a 
more  terrible  roar  than  that  in  which  many  a  delicate 
Roman  lady  joined,  as  it  rose  in  the  circus  :  "The  Chris- 
tian to  the  lions."* 

Between  abominations  like  these  and  the  Church  no 
compromise  was  possible,  not  only  because  her  own 
confessors  were  among  the  victims  in  the  arena,  and 
because  every  representation  was  inaugurated  by  pagan 
rites,  but  because  everything  that  was  there  done  was 
an  outrage  on  God  and  humanity,  and  a  deadly  poison 
to  the  soul.  And  yet  the  attraction  of  these  pleasures 
was  so  great,  so  general,  that  repeated  prohibitions  and 
precautions  were  necessary  to  guard  weak  and  wavering 
Christians  against  them.  We  know  that  some  among 
them    attempted    a   feeble    apology   for    the    theatre, 

•  "  Quolidiani  in  nos  leones  postulantur."    Tedull.  "  De  Spect."  27. 


THE    THEATRE.  465 

making  distinctions  undoubtedl}^,  and  rejecting  that 
which  was  grossly  wrong,  but  pleading  extenuating 
circumstances  for  those  amusements  which  were  of  a 
merely  questionable  character.  They  were  not  willing, 
in  truth,  to  forego  their  favourite  pleasure,  and  the  fear 
of  losing  it  had  perhaps  more  power  over  them  than 
the  fear  of  death.*  They  showed  a  strange  facility  in 
excusing  themselves  ;  their  apologies,  derived  in  part 
from  the  pagans,  are  like  the  first  essay  of  a  subtle 
casuistry  to  stifle  the  spirit  under  the  letter.  They 
say,  "  Does  not  the  word  racecourse  appear  with 
honour  on  the  page  of  Scripture,  which  has  borrowed 
from  it  one  of  its  most  beautiful  images  of  the  Christian 
life  ?  t  Can  a  single  text  be  quoted  which  distinctly 
forbids  the  theatre  ?  X  That  which  is  not  forbidden 
is  tacitly  allowed.  Is  not  God  Himself,  who  makes 
His  sun  to  shine  on  the  whole  earth,  a  witness  of  all 
that  is  done  ?  Why  should  we  shut  our  eyes  to  that 
which  He  beholds  from  the  height  of  heaven  ?  After 
all,  is  not  everything  which  is  used  in  theatrical  re- 
presentations, from  the  stones  of  the  building  to  the 
dresses  of  the  actors  and  the  sw^ords  of  the  gladiators — 
is  it  not  all  of  God's  creating  ?  Beside,  all  is  not  vicious 
and  evil  in  the  theatre. §  Virtue  and  courage  there  re- 
ceive their  reward.  There  is  then  no  reason  to  forbid 
the  theatre,  if  only  it  be  not  abused.  That  which 
delights  man  does  not  offend  God."  || 

Tertullian,  in  refuting  these  sophisms,  only  expresses 
the  general  opinion  of  the  Church.     He  does  not  dwell 

*  ' '  Plures  invenias  quos  magis  periculum  voluptatis,  quam  vitse,  avocet 
ab  hac  secta."     Tertullian,  "  De  spect."  2. 

t  Ibid.  18.  I  Ibid.  20.  §  Ibid.  27. 

II  "Nee  Deum  offendi  oblectatione  hominis."     Ibid.  i. 

31 


466  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

long  on  the  miserable  quibble  based  on  the  origin  of  the 
materials  used  in  the  building  and  decorations  of  the 
theatre.  As  vrell  might  it  be  pretended  that  the  idol 
deserves  respect  because  the  wood  of  which  it  is  made 
was  cut  out  of  the  forest ;  or  that  the  assassin  is 
innocent  because  the  blade  with  which  he  does  the 
murderous  deed  is  made  of  iron  drawn  out  of  the  earth. 
If  evil  is  justified  by  any  admixture  of  good,  then  we 
may  drink  with  safety  the  most  deadly  poisons,  for  they 
often  have  a  pleasant  taste.*  If  all  that  is  done 
beneath  the  e^e  of  God  may  be  lawfully  looked  upon, 
then  there  is  no  condemnation  for  any  crime  or 
debauch,  since  all  these  are  naked  and  open  to  His 
eye.  What  matters  it  that  the  Scripture  has  not 
distinctly  said,  "  Thou  slialt  not  go  to  the  circus," 
if  it  has  said,  "  Thou  shalt  have  no  other  gods  but  me  ; 
thou  shall  not  commit  adultery;  thou  shalt  not  kill"  ?t 
Is  not  idolatry  the  presiding  genius  of  all  the  games 
of  the  circus? J  Murder  and  adultery  strive  for  the  pre- 
eminence in  the  theatre.  How  should  that  which 
would  be  considered  culpable  in  private  life  become 
inoffensive  on  the  steps  of  the  amphitheatre  ?  Let  us 
shake  off  all  scruples  if  unpie'.y  and  cruelty  are  per- 
missible. §  Can  anything  be  more  abominable  than  to 
rejoice  in  the  sufferings  of  the  innocent  ?  And  the 
gladiators  are  such  victims,  doomed  to  suffer  for  the 
amusement  of  the  populace,  not  as  the  meed  of  any 
crime  the}^  have  comimitted.  A  homicide  is  condemned, 
and  yet  there  is  no  hesitation  in  urging  on  the  unwilling 

*Tertul]ian,  "De  spect."  27.  f  Ibid.  4.  +  Ibid   5. 

§  "  Si  si^viMam,  si  impietatem,  si  feritatem  permissam  nobis  contendere 
possumus,  eamus  in  auiphitheatrum."     Ibid.  19. 


THE    THEATRE.  467 

gladiator  by  the  lash  to  a  murderous  conflict,  while 
eager  spectators  gloat  over  the  death-agonies  of  the 
fallen.  If  all  impurity  is  proscribed,  how  can  it  be 
.  lawful  to  hear  language  which  it  would  not  be  lawful  to 
utter,*  and  to  witness  the  open  desecration  of  all 
morality  ?t  No  time  or  place  can  lend  sanction  to  that 
which  God  condemns ;  that  which  is  inherently  good 
or  evil  cannot  change  its  character.^  Nor  can  it  be 
pleasing  to  God  to  see  men  clothing  themselves  in 
ridiculous  disguises,  and  making  a  travesty  of  the 
nature  which  is  His  work.  The  pagans  themselves 
show  the  true  estimate  of  the  theatre  by  excluding 
actors  from  all  civic  honours.  For  us  Christians,  it 
should  be  enough  to  remember  our  baptismal  vow,  in 
which  we  renounced  all  idols  and  all  the  pomps  of  the 
world  and  the  d3vil,§  for  the  theatre  is  the  very  throne 
and  temple  of  the  devil.  ||  In  it  God  and  man  are  alike 
treated  with  contumely.  The  maskings  and  gross 
buffooneries  of  the  stage  are  an  insult  at  once  to  the 
dignity  of  man,  and  to  Him  whose  image  man  bears. H 
In  the  name  of  humanity,  therefore,  as  well  as  of  God, 
Christianity  sets  itself  against  the  impure  and  cruel 
games  of  the  ancient  theatre. 

TertuUian  asks  finally  if  piety  must  not  perish  in  such 
a  place.  The  disciple  of  Christ  cannot  breathe  in  an 
atmosphere  thus  heavy  with  blasphemy  and  impurity. 
It  ca'n  ill  become  hands  which  have  been  folded  in 
prayer  to   be  joining  in   the  rapturous    applause    that 

*Tertu]lian,  "Despect."  17. 

t  "  Cur  liceat  audire  qnx  loqui  non  licet."     Ibid.  17. 
t  Ibid.  16.  §  Ibid.  4.  ||  "  Doemoniormr  oHncia."     Ibid.  9. 

*i\  "  Quaero,  ac  Deo  placeat,  qui  omnem  similitudinem  vetat  fieri,  quanto 
magis  imaginis  suae. "     Ibid.  23. 

31* 


468  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

greets  a  jockey  or  an  actor ;  or  lips  which  have  learnt  the 
praises  of  God,  to  be  urging  on  the  gladiator  with  eager 
cries  to  the  dance  of  death.*  What  Christian  virtue 
would  not  flee  such  a  scene  ?  Peace  of  soul  shuns  the 
idle,  tumult;  modesty  shuts  its  eyes  against  such 
infamous  sights ;  humility  can  find  no  pleasure  in  a 
place  where  all  are  seeking  only  to  see  and  to  be  seen.t 
Nothing  can  bring  God  to  mind  in  a  scene  where 
nothing  speaks  of  God.  In  fact,  the  grand  charm  of  the 
theatre  is  just  this — that  it  makes  a  man  lose  himself, 
and  it  is  thus  in  very  truth  a  possession.  J 

The  Church  was  at  one  with  Tertullian  on  this  point 
of  morality.  Minutius  Felix  is  no  less  severe  on  the 
subject.  He  looks  upon  the  theatre  as  the  school 
of  homicide  and  debauch,  encouraging  vice  by  making 
a  sport  of  it.§  Tatian,  in  his  discourses  to  the  Greeks, 
stigmatises  strongly  the  methods  by  which  the  circus 
is  sustained.  He  shows  the  rich  man  purchasing  the 
poor  for  gold,  in  order  to  make  him  a  hired  assassin, 
thus  offering  a  true  feast  of  Thyestes  to  the  crowd 
of  spectators,  who,  greedy  of  carnage,  feed  upon  the 
mangled  limbs  and  heaped-up  corpses  of  those  who 
have  been  slain  for  their  amusement.  || 

The  Church,  not  content  with  protesting  against  the 
theatre,  excluded  from  the  class  of  catechumens  not 
only  all  actors,  but  every  one  occupied  in  any  way, 
directly    or   indirectly,    in    connection    with   theatrical 

*  "Illas  manus  quas  ad  Dominum  extuleris,  postmodum  laudando  his- 
trionem  fatigare."     Tertullian,  "  De  spect."  25. 

t  "Nemo  in  spectaculo  ineundo  prius  cogitat,  nisi  videri  et  videre." 
Ibid.  25.  :^  "  Sui  non  sunt."     Ibid.  16. 

§  "  In  gladiatoriis  homicidii  disciplinam, — histrio  amorem  dum  fingit, 
infligit."     *'Octav."37. 

ij  Tatian,  "  Contra  Graecos, "  p.  l6i.     Cologne  edition. 


THE    THEATRE.  469 

performances.*     The  driver  of  the  racing  chariot  and 
the  gladiator  were  equally  excluded.     This  preliminary 
excommunication   is   the    more   significant,  because    it 
applies  not  only  to  the  Eucharist,  but  to  the  preparatory 
stage  of  the  catechumenate.     As  an  instance  showing 
how  deeply  the   Christian    conscience    was    stirred    in 
relation  to  the  theatre,  we  may  mention  the  case  of  an 
unhappy   woman,    of  whom    Tertullian    speaks,    who, 
having  yielded  to  the  temptation  to  go  to  the  circus, 
returned  from  it  deranged,  imagining  herself  to  be  the 
prey  of  demons,  so  horrified  had  she  been  at  the  spec- 
tacle into  which  she  had  allowed  herself  to  be  drawn. t 
The   opposition   of  Christianity  to  the   theatre  does 
not  rest  upon  any  rude  hostility  to  art.     It  could  not  be 
expected,  engaged  as  it  was  in  the  vast  labour  of  evan- 
gelising the  pagan  world,  to  devote  much  attention  to 
matters    purely    aesthetic.     It    had  no   leisure  to  train 
artists  while  it  was  moulding  martyrs  and  saints.     But 
it  did  bring  a  renovating  influence  to  bear  upon  art  at 
the  very  time  when  it  was  perishing  in  a  sterile  abund- 
ance of  innumerable  works.      The   art   of   this  period 
carried  within  itself  the  germs  of  a  fatal  decay.     It  had 
lost   all  true  inspiration  ;  it   had   no  longer  any  ideal. 
The  human   form  had  ceased    to    represent   to    it  the 
moral  grandeur  and  quiet  majesty  which  had  charac- 
terised   Greek   tragedy    and    sculpture    in    the    age    of 
Pericles,  when  Greece  reached  its  highest  conception-  of 
the   Divine  in  human  form.      The    beliefs    which  had 
called  forth  this  ideal  had  died  away,  and  mythology 

*  "Const.  Eccles.  Egypt."  ii.  41. 

t  "  Exemplum  accidit  mulieris  quse  theatmm  adiit,  et  inde  cum  dsemonio 
rediit."     Tertullian,  "  De  spect. "  26. 


470  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

had  degenerated,  as  we  have  seen,  into  a  collection  of 
amorous  legends.     If  religion  had  a  more  serious  side, 
it  borrowed  it  from  the  creeds  of  other  countries,  espe- 
cially those  of  the  East.      Art  thus  lost   its  classical 
character,  that  precision  of  form  closely  allied  to  the 
Greek  humanism,  which  would  not  permit  the  Divine 
to  be  lost  in   a   colossal   pantheism.      Finally,   in  the 
decline  of  public  life,  art  was  no  longer  devoted  to  the 
expression  of  the  high  sentiments  of  humanity,  to  the 
beautification  of  the  religion  of  the  country ;  it  became 
the  handmaid   of  the  magnates  of  the  day,  beginning 
with    the    emperor,    whose    palaces     it     sumptuously 
adorned,   and  whose  image    it    constantly  reproduced. 
Its  special  function  then  became  that  of  decorating  the 
mansions  of  the  rich  with  the  costly  materials  lavishly 
placed  at  its   disposal ;    men  were  no    longer   content 
with  the  marble  out  of  which  had  sprung  the  great  gods 
of  the  past.     The  skill  of  hand  .displayed  was  marvel- 
lous ;    the  most  perfect   models   still    existed,   and  the 
mere  execution  left  nothing  to  be  desired  ;  bu':  the  soul 
of  art  was  departing  day  by  day.     Only  a  moral  revo- 
lution could  bring  it  back,  and  Christianity  alone  was 
capable  of  effecting  this.     It  did  more  than  merely  pre- 
pare  the   way  for  it   by  its  influence  and  by  the  pure 
ideal  which  it  raised  in  an  age  of  proscription,  when 
the  use  of  any  striking  symbols  of  its  own  would  have 
drawn  down  denunciation  and  death  :  it  developed  also 
aesthetic  ideas  full  of  originality,  which    became  sub- 
sequently the  inspiration  of  glorious  artists. 

There  w^ere,  no  doubt,  intolerant  iconoclasts  who,  con- 
founding the  use  with  the  abuse,  condemned  without  dis. 
tinction  all  the  culture  of  the  ancient  world,  even  its  noble 


ART.  471 

literature.  Traces  uf  this  sweeping  censure  are  found 
in  the  "  Apostolical  Constitutions,"  ■''  but  such  narrow- 
ness was  not  general.  The  Christian  apology  was 
indeed  bound  to  seek  in  the  ancient  literature  the 
partial  confirmation  of  its  own  doctrines,  and  it  did  not 
hesitate  to  appeal,  like  St.  Paul  hfmself,  to  the  testi- 
mony of  the  poets.  In  the  conflict  with  Gnosticism 
which  identified  created  nature  with  evil,  and  held  it 
accursed,  as  the  work  of  the  blind  demiurgus,  the 
Church  was  called  to  dwell  on  the  beauty  of  creation, 
regarding  it  as  a  manifestation  of  the  higher  and  Divine 
world,  and  as  a  liviu;^  symbol  of  its  glory.  The  sun 
sinking  into  the  bosom  of  the  ocean  at  night,  and  rising 
in  renewed  splendour  in  the  morning,  appeared  to  her  a 
striking  image  of  the  Resurrection. t  Nothing  dies  in 
this  world,  except  to  live  again.  The  whole  order  of 
nature  bears  wdtness  to  this  grand  restoration.  God 
revealed  Himself  in  His  works  before  He  spoke  in  His 
oracles,  and  nature  is  a  prophetess. |  She  forms  one 
sublime  symphony,  of  which  the  Word  is  the  choragus.§ 
It  is  not  even  necessary  to  rise  to  the  sublimities  of 
earth  and  of  the  starry  skies  in  order  to  perceive  the 
beauty  of  nature  ;  it  is  enough  to  gather  a  flower,  to 
breathe  the  perfume  of  a  rose.||  But  most  of  all  upon 
the  human  form  divine  is  set  the  seal  of  God."  The 
clay  has  been  moulded  by  a  Phidias  such  as  Greece 
never  knew,  and  the  soul  is  enshrined  wdthin  it  as  a 
precious  pearl. 1[     The  masterpiece  of  creation  is  that 

*  Tail'  IdviKMU  l3i€\i(ov  TvavTiov  cntk-)(ov.     "Const.  Apost."  i.  6. 
t  TertuUian,  "  De  resurrect."  c.  12.  |  Ibid. 

§  Clement,  "  Protrept.    1.  5. 

II  "  Rosam  si  tibi  obtulero  non  fastidies  creatorem."     TertuUian,  "Cont. 
Marc."  i.  14. 

%  "Phidias    antus,  Deus  vivus."     Ibid.  "  J Je  resurrect."  6. 


472  THE    EARLY   CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

human  frame  in  which  the  Word  was  to  dwell,  and 
which  was  not  only  the  w^ork  of  God,  but  in  a  manner 
the  pledge  of  the  Incarnation.*  God  Himself  is  the 
supreme  Artist  who  breathes  spirit  into  the  human 
form  to  render  it  immortal. 

A  long  period  was  required  for  Christian  art  to  win 
its  way  in  a  world  given  up  to  idolatry.  Before  the 
ideal  of  true  beauty  could  be  recognised,  it  was  needful 
to  dethrone  the  false,  perfidious,  dangerous  type  of 
beauty  which  was  the  Circe  of  the  pagan  world.  The 
great  representative  spirits  of  the  Church  were  with 
reason  implacable  towards  that  corrupt  art  which  de- 
based the  soul  while  it  fascinated  the  senses. t  They 
condemned  unsparingly  everything  that  could  poison 
the  moral  life,  though  it  were  presented  with  all  the 
charms  of  Homeric  verse. J  "  O  beauty,  mother  of 
adultery,"  exclaims  Clement  of  Alexandria,  as  he  gazes 
on  the  ensnaring  charms  by  which  men  are  lured  into  per- 
dition.§  Clement  is  no  despiser  of  beauty  in  itself;  nay, 
he  even  consented  to  admire  that  which  was  truly  beauti- 
ful in  the  masterpieces  of  ancient  art,  in  so  far  as  they 
could  be  regarded  apart  from  their  idolatrous  intention. I| 
That  which  he  desires  above  all  is  to  preserve  the  bloom 
of  true  beauty  by  guarding  it  from  all  surrounding  defile- 
ment :  this  gift  of  heaven  is  kept  by  purity  alone.  "O 
man,"  he  says,  "be  not  the  tyrant  of  beauty,  doing  it 
violence  ;  be  content  to  be  its  king."  %  Is  not  the  human 
form  the  sacred  image  of  that  supreme  beauty  of  which 

*  ''*Non  tantum  Dei  opus  sed  pignus."     TertuUian,  "De  resurrect."  6. 
t  Clement,  "  Protrept."  iv.  57.  J  Ibid.  "Predag."  iii.  2,  14. 

§  "Q  KciWovQ  /uotxtfou.     Ibid.  iii.  2,  13. 

II  'ETvan'einOu)    jxtv   ?)    rk^vi},     ju>)     otTrararw     ^k    rov    dvBpioTTOv.       Ibid. 
*'  Proirept."  iv.  57. 

%  M>7  Tvoavr})<r)]c  rov  kgWovq  !      Ibid.  iv.  49. 


ART.  473 

all  other  beauty  is  but  a  reflection  ?*  It  is  this  reflection 
which  we  want  to  see  glorifying  the  human  form;  there- 
fore we  say,  Cast  away  all  those  adornments  beneath 
which  it  is  as  it  were  buried.  The  idea  is  not  to  des- 
troy natural  beauty — the  impress  of  God  Himself — but 
to  enhance  it  by  returning  to  the  simplicity  of  nature, 
and  this,  therefore,  is  the  first  principle  of  Christian 
aesthetics.  This  natural  beauty,  preserved  by  temper- 
ance, acquires  a  new  and  higher  grace  when  it  becomes 
the  revealer  of  the  inner  beauty  of  the  soul.  Moral 
aberrations  always  betray  themselves  in  time  in  the 
countenance,  and  the  lower  animal  nature  becomes  pre- 
dominant ;  while  the  man  who  lives  in  constant  fel- 
lowship with  God  shares  in  His  beauty,  and  becomes 
Himself  godlike. t 

Love  is  the  supreme  beauty,  t  It  was  this  which 
transfigured  and  glorified  the  face  of  Christ;  and  it  was 
this  beauty  of  expression  rather  than  the  calm  cold 
grandeur  of  Greek  models  which  characterised  Chris- 
tian art.  This  new  conception  of  beauty  brought 
a  purifying  and  softening  influence  to  bear  on  that 
Platonic  school  which  had  done  so  much  to  promote 
the  worship  of  the  ideal,  and  had  given  such  large  de- 
velopment to  the  notion  of  the  beautiful.  It  would  be 
unreasonable  to  expect  that  the  Church  "of  the  martyrs 
should  originate  many  works  of  art :  hers  was  a  sterner 
calling.  But  we  have  ample  evidence  that  the  Chris- 
tians did  not  share  in  that  invincible  repugnance  to  the 

*  Tote  Trpocricvvtjau)  to  kciWoq  to  dXjjQivbv,  o  dpxsTVTrov  eari  tujv  Kauiv. 
Clement,  "  Protrept."  iv.  49. 

t  'O  civOpojiroQ  iKsivoQ,  qj  avvoiKOQ  6  Xoyog,  fiop(pi^v  a-)(e.i  rov  \6yoVy 
i^ofxoiovTai  Toj  Qe(ij.  icdWvg  frrri  to  a\i]9iv(U',  Kal  yap  Qibg  lOTiv,  Ofbg  dk 
iicfifog  6  dvPpMTvoc  yiviTOi.     Ibid.  "  Pcedag."  iii.  I,  2. 

\  "EoTi  ct  Kcit  uWo  KciWoQ  apOpwTTUJV  dydin].      Ibid.  §  3, 


474  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

plastic  arts  and  reproductions  of  tlie  human  form  v.-hich 
was  felt  by  the  Jews.  We  have  already  learnt  from 
Clement  that  they  delighted  to  engrave  pious  symbols 
upon  the  modest  jewels  they  possessed  ;  and  we  shall 
see  presently  how  freely  they  used  in  the  catacombs  the 
processes  of  ancient  art  in  the  service  of  the  faith,  while 
abjuring  all  that  was  essentially  pagan.'" 

The  same  rules  were  observed  '  by  the  Church  in 
regard  to  literature. t  The  stud}"  of  it  was  not  pro- 
hibited, but  the  Christians  were  warned  against  its  pos- 
sibly pernicious  influence.  The  Church  showed  much 
more  severity  in  the  case  of  those  vrho  wished  to  become 
teachers,  and  not  simpl;/  students  of  the  ancient  lite- 
rature, because  it  would  appear  peculiarly  difficult  to 
preserve  a  strict  fidelit}^  to  the  monotheism  of  the 
gospel  while  commenting  on  the  poets  of  paganism. | 
The  idea  of  cultivating  literature  rs  an  art  never  seems 
to  have  occurred  to  a  writer  of  the  ^arly  ages  :  he  looked 
upon  himself  as  a  witness  and  a  soldier  of  Christ,  and  a 
merely  literary  career  would  have  seemed  to  him  incom- 
patible with  his  high  vocation.  It  was  this  very  con- 
tempt for  art  which  gave  such  an  entirely  new  character 
to  the  Christian  epistles.  Productic.is  of  this  class  among 
pagan  writers  always  degenerated  into  rhetorical  disser- 
tations :  they  were  nerveless  and  cold  because  they  had 
no  great  cause  to  serve,  no  manly  argument  to  plead. 
A  sincere  passion  is  the  true  co^d  of  fire  with  which 
human   lips   must   be   touched   before   they   can    utter 

*  Tertullian,  "  De  idolatr."  3. 

t  See  "  Geschichte  dei*  Christlich.  lateinischan  litteratur  von  ihrem  An- 
fangen."     By  Adolf  Ebert.     Leipzig,  1873.    F.  93. 

+  "  Fideles  magis  discere  quam  docere  literas  capit."  Tertullian,  "  De 
idolatr."  lO. 


ART.  475 

strong,  earnest,  unaffected  words.  But  these  frozen, 
subtle  rhetors  only  played  with  brilliant  words,  as 
jugglers  with  their  glittering  balls.  The  religion  of 
Christ,  on  the  contrary,  which  called  on  its  followers  to 
gird  their  loins  for  a  mighty  conflict,  taught  them  to 
speak  in  brief  and  burning  words.  Christian  eloquence, 
rude  and  incorrect  as  it  often  was,  had  a  glofy  of  its 
own  in  its  pointed  directness  and  m.anly  vigour.  The 
great  apostles  of  the  second  century  inc.i  g  rated  a  new 
style  of  eloquence,  which  dealt  with  the  nighest  truths, 
and  pleaded  for  the  most  sacred  rights  with  a  noble  dis- 
interestedness and  a  lofty  indifference  to  the  favour  of 
the  world.  They  did  not  always  show  an  entire  dis- 
regard of  form.  The  ''  Octavius  "  of  Minutius  Felix  is 
a  dialogue  on  the  antique  model ;  Cyprian  and  Lactan- 
t'us  remind  us  of  Cicero.  A  striking  originality  charac- 
terises the  writings  of  Tertullian,  abrupt  as  they  are  in 
language  and  lurid  in  their  imaginative  cclouring,  as  he 
appears  now  as  the  tribune  of  Christian  liberties,  now 
as  the  inspired  poet,  dramatising  in  burning  words  the 
th  )ughts  and  images  that  passed  before  him  as  in 
apocalyptic  vision.  Without  the  slightest  attempt  at 
artistic  effect,  none  probably  ever  exercised  a  greater 
influence  over  the  Christian  mind,  thrilling  it  with  terror 
and  touching  it  to  tears. 

The  Greek  Fathers  speak  with  more  simplicity  and 
purity,  but  they  also  use  the  poetical  element  in  their 
allegorical  exposition  of  Scripture,  in  which  their  danger 
is  over- subtlety.  The  interpretation  of  the  Song  of 
Songs  by  Origen,  who  treats  it  as  the  betrothal  hymn  of 
the  soul  of  man  to  its  Divine  Spouse,  is  entirely  poetical. 
The  "  Pastor  Hermas,"   while  so  rigid  in   its  original 


476  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

idea,  deserves  to  be  regarded  as  in  many  respects  a 
work  of  imagination,  from  the  often  graceful  descriptions 
interwoven  with  its  allegories.  However  valueless  the 
apocryphal  literature  may  be  in  point  of  doctrine,  it  re- 
veals to  us  in  the  lower  strata  of  Christian  society  a 
certain  vein  of  poetry.  The  "  Acts  of  Pilate  "  describe 
with  a  pathos  not  devoid  of  art  the  descent  of  Christ 
into  Hades.  His  meeting  with  old  Adam,  now  at  length 
released,  and  with  the  great  prophets  who  had  long  de- 
sired to  see  that  day,  is  pourtrayed  with  power  and 
pathos.  The  "  Testament  of  Moses  "  depicts  in  noble 
touches  the  death  of  the  first  man,  the  grief  of  Eve,  and 
the  trembling  of  the  earth,  which  shrinks  from  receiving 
the  corpse  of  the  son  of  heaven.  These  anonymous 
works  disclose  the  secret  silent  travail  of  the  Christian 
imagination,  to  which  only  the  plastic  power  was  want- 
ing for  the  creation  of  a  new  school  of  poetry.  The 
sorrowful  and  sublime  conception  of  Gnosticism,  which 
makes  the  Sophia  wailing  on  the  threshold  of  the  infinite, 
the  personification  or  an^el  of  the  earth  consumed  by 
an  infinite  regret  for  the  heaven  it  has  lost,  was  formed 
under  the  same  influences.  The  Apocalypse  of  Com- 
modian,  and  the  poem  of  the  Phoenix  by  an  unknown 
author,  vainly  attempted  to  conform  their  incorrect  lan- 
guage to  the  recognised  rules  of  poetry,  but  these  works 
are  of  far  less  value  than  the  informal  and  natural  pro- 
ductions of  the  popular  imagination. 

Commodian's  Apocalypse  reminds  us  of  the  gloomy 
predictions  of  the  Jewish  Sibyl,  and  only  strikes  the 
well-worn  chord  of  righteous  anger,  which  is  not  the 
true  tone  of  the  Christian  lyre.  The  only  musical  com- 
positions which  the  Church   had   as  yet  produced  were 


ART.  477 

songs  of  praise  to  be  used  in  worship.  Its  chief  work 
hitherto  had  been  to  w^ake  to  new  tones  of  gladness  the 
harp  of  the  human  heart.  From  this,  in  later  ages, 
will  be  poured  forth  streams  of  melody  that  will  enrich 
all  language  with  new  forms  of  speech  expressive  of  its 
own  ideal.  For  the  present  that  ideal  is  itself  being 
silently  formed  and  purified  day  by  day.  In  the  quiet 
and  obscurity  of  private  life,  types  of  character  are 
being  matured  such  as  the  ancient  world  never  knew — 
such  types  as  that  of  the  Christian  woman,  in  whom 
the  masters  of  the  Renaissance  will  presently  personify 
the  gentlest  and  most  divine  of  gospel  virtues.  The 
drama  of  the  moral  life  goes  on  deepening  in  interest, 
and  only  awaits  the  immortal  artists  who  shall  repro- 
duce it,  and  thus  give  birth  to  a  literature  more  rich  and 
varied  than  any  antiquity  can  offer.  The  mine  is  opened, 
it  is  only  waiting  to  be  worked. 


478  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 


CHAPTER  VL 

CHRISTIANITY   AND   ASCETICISM. 

Asceticism,  while  it  does  honour  to  human  nature  by 
showing  its  supremacy  over  its  lower  instincts,  is  never- 
theless a  great  m^oral  mistake.  It  must  be  carefully 
distinguished  from  the  austerity  which  keeps  the  body 
in  subjection,  and  exercises  over  it  a  stern  discipline 
without  attempting  to  destroy  it.  Asceticism  goes  far 
beyond  this  :  it  regards  the  corporeal  element  as  more  or 
less  evil  in  itself,  and  family  life  as  an  inferior  condition, 
incompatible  with  the  perfection  of  Christian  character. 
When  Christianity  appeared,  asceticism  reigned  through 
the  whole  East,  and  in  India  it  had  assumed  gigantic 
proportions  in  the  religion  of  Buddha,  which  identified 
evil  not  only  with  the  corporeal  element,  but  with  the 
created  and  the  finite,  so  that  its  aspiration  was  to  merge 
all  individual  life  in  the  vast  abyss  of  being.  Wherever 
dualism  prevailed,  asceticism  triumphed,  at  least,  in 
the  nobler  souls,  v.dio,  when  the  great  duality  of  flesh 
and  spirit  waz  presented  to  them,  espoused  the  higher 
life.  The  religion  most  directly  opposed  to  asceticism, 
was  Judaism,  which,  being  based  upon  the  doctrine  of 
the  creation,  had  always  presented  spiritual  blessings 
through  the  medium  of  those  which  were  temporal. 
Neither  the  priests  nor  the  prophets  of  Judaism  were 


CHRISTIANITY    AND    ASCETICISM.  479 

separated  from  the  common  life  of  the  people.  To  fear 
God  and  keep  His  commandments;  to  cherish  the  wife 
of  his  youth,  and  to  see  his  home  filled  with  children, 
who  should  be  like  the  arrows  in  a  quiver  against  hi ; 
enemies;  to  meditate  on  the  sacred  Book  under  his  own 
vine  and  fig  tree,  blessing  God  for  the  abundance  with 
which  He  crowned  the  year  ;  such  was  the  ideal  life  of 
Israel's  favoured  son.  And  yet,  under  the  influence  of 
nationS.1  misfortunes,  and  from  the  irresistible  intrusion 
of  Oriental  ideas,  which  was  largely  promoted  by  the 
emigration  of  Jews  Lo  Alexandria  —  the  very  focus  of 
such  ideas — asceticis  n  had  crept  even  into  this  religion, 
so  wise  and  so  well  rooted  in  the  land  of  promise.  The 
Essenes  had  become  its  apostles  in  Judsea  —  wearing 
white  garments,  abstaining  from  all  animal  food,  living 
in  obscurity  and  celibacy,  and  looking  upon  all  contact 
with  material  things  as  a  deiilement.  In  Egypt  the 
Therapeutics  had  adopted  the  same  ideas  and  practices. 
A  treatise  of  Philo  (^n  the  contemplative  life  had  de- 
picted in  words  of  hi[  h  eulogium  their  solitary  existence 
on  the  desert  lands  of  Africa,  a  sort  of  foreshadowing  of 
the  life  of  the  cenoLite.  The  Oriental  Platonism  of 
Philo  inclined  him  to  accept  the  natural  consequence  of 
dualism.  Neoplatonism  was  to  go  still  further  in  the 
same  direction,  and  co  plunge  Greek  speculation  into 
the  ecstasy  of  annihilation,  as  into  an  atmosphere  too 
rarefied  for  breathing 

There  was  another  importaiit  reason  for  the  growth 
of  asceticism  at  this  period :  this  was  the  utter  failure 
of  all  the  religions  and  philosophies  of  paganism  to  over- 
come the  license  of  an  unbridled  sensuality.  Since 
they  could  not  control  these  impulses  they  were  com- 


480  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

pelled  as  a  last  resource  to  seek  to  crush  them.  Let  it 
be  clearly  understood,  asceticism  is  not  a  victory ;  it  is 
a  defeat ;  it  is  the  desperate  attempt  to  annihilate  that 
corporeal  element  which  cannot  be  kept  in  due  sub- 
jection. 

Primitive  Christianity  did  not  fall  into  this  error.  It 
waged  war  against  the  sensuality  which  blights  and 
kills  the  soul,  but  it  did  ho  violence  to  natural  and  law- 
ful instincts.  It  not  only  accepted  all  the  conditions  of 
family  life,  as  we  have  seen,  but  gave  them  a  new  and 
firmer  foundation.  Undoubtedly  it  exalted  the  spiritual 
far  above  the  visible  world,  and  it  displayed  extraordi- 
nary energy  in  subduing  the  rebellious  flesh.  At  first 
it  carried  to  the  extreme  limits  its  precepts  of  renuncia- 
tion of  all  the  vanities  and  luxuries  of  the  world.  It 
cannot  be  denied,  moreover,  that  the  great  apostle  of 
Christianity  was  himself  an  ascetic  by  natural  tempera- 
ment, and  that  he  expressed  his  own  preferences  in 
free  and  powerful  language;  but  this  only  renders  the 
more  remarkable  his  high  conception  of  the  Christian 
life,  which  is  entirely  free  from  asceticism.  On  the  one 
hand  he  carefully  avoids  any  identification  of  the  cor- 
poreal element  with  evil ;  and  on  the  other  he  desires 
the  disciple  of  Christ,  whether  he  eats  or  drinks,  or 
whatever  he  does,  to  do  all  to  the  glory  of  God.  This 
is  in  direct  opposition  to  asceticism,  which  in  its  most 
moderate  form  attaches  a  peculiar  merit  to  self-mace- 
rations and  privations,  and  does  not  admit  the  possibi- 
lity  of  perfection  under  the  conditions  of  ordinary  life. 
St.  Paul  says  expressly  that  "bodily  exercise,"  by  which 
he  means  asceticism,  "  profiteth  little."*     Christianity 

*  I  Tim.  iv.  8. 


CHRISTIANITY    AND    ASCETICISM.  481. 

is  Opposed  to  asceticism,  not  only  in  its  ideas  of  mo- 
rality, but  also  in  its  essential  doctrines.  Accepting  the 
Jewish  record  of  creation,  it  cannot  regard  nature  as 
irremediably  tainted  with  evil,  since  natural  life  pro- 
ceeds from  God.  The  incarnation  of  the  Son  of  God  is 
the  central  fact  of  its  teaching.  When  it  affirms  that 
the  Word  was  made  flesh,  it  glorifies  the  corporeal 
element :  the  body  of  the  Christian  may  become  the 
temple  of  the  Divine  Spirit.  Finally,  proclaiming  sal- 
vation as  the  gift  of  Divine  mercy  to  the  penitent  heart, 
the  gospel  allows  no  room  for  meritorious  works  of  self- 
mortification.  These  can  possess  no  expiatory  virtue, 
since  the  sacrifice  of  Calvary  was  the  one  complete 
expiation ;  they  can  only  be  means  voluntarily  chosen 
for  assuring  the  triumph  of  the  higher  over  the  lower 
nature.  These  great  principles  were  accepted  and 
generally  practised  in  the  Church  of  the  second  century. 
The  married  state  was  not  supposed  to  be  one  of  in- 
feriority. 

The  constitution  of  the  Egyptian  Church  declares 
expressly  that  conjugal  life  presents  no  barrier  to  a  life 
of  faith,  and  does  not  render  prayer  less  pure."^'  We 
have  dwelt  already  at  sufficient  length  on  the  liberal 
views  of  Clement  of  Alexandria  on  this  point ;  we  have 
seen  how  he  exalts  the  sacred  tie  of  fatherhood,  and 
delights  to  represent  the  Saviour  as  seated  in  the  middle 
of  the  family  circle,  as  the  Divine  Guest,  whose  presence 
constitutes  the  church  in  the  house.  We  know  how 
completely  he  was  opposed  to  the  idea  of  two  standards 
of  morality.  So  far  from  regarding  celibacy  as  a  higher 
state  of  the  Christian  life,  he  considered  it  inferior  to 

*  "Const.  Eccles,  Egypt."  ii.  62. 
32 


482  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

marriage,  as  not  affording  the  same  opportunity  for 
daily  conflict  and  victory  in  the  fulfilment  of  the  duties 
of  the  family.  The  ideal  Christian,  whom  he  calls  the 
Gnostic,  is  to  submit  to  the  ordinary  conditions  of  life, 
not  to  avoid  them.  He  is  to  drink,  to  eat,  to  marry. 
"  Yes,"  says  Clement,  "the  Christian  marries  if  he  is 
so  commanded  by  the  Word;  have  not  the  apostles  set 
us  this  example  ?  The  true  man  does  not  show  his 
strength  in  a  lonely  life.  He  is  truly  heroic  who,  in 
marriage,  and  in  the  duties  of  a  family,  and  the  care  of 
a  home,  rises  above  mere  pleasure  and  pain,  abides 
closely  united  to  God  by  love,  arming  himself  against 
all  the  temptations  that  may  come  to  him  through  wife 
and  children,  servants  and  goods.*  The  celibate  escapes 
the  most  difficult  of  all  ordeals  ;  he  is  occupied  only  with 
himself,  hence  his  great  inferiority  to  the  man  who, 
instead  of  being  absorbed  wholly  in  seeking  his  own 
salvation,  can  devote  himself  also  to  the  good  of  his 
house.  The  father  of  a  family  gives  us  some  faint 
image  of  the  Providence  on  which  all  things  depend. t 
We  m^ust  not  take  the  great  mind  of  Clement  as  the 
measure  of  the  general  opinion  of  the  Church.  Few  of 
his  contemporaries  rose  to  such  a  height  of  spirituality  ; 
he  only  fulfilled,  however,  the  true  office  of  genius  in 
bringing  out  in  clear  relief  the  true  idea  of  Christianity, 
which  acknowledges  but  one  law  of  perfection,  namely, 
conformity  to  the  will  of  God,  in  whatever  condition  of 
life  He  has  placed  us.  If  the  Christian  ideal  can  be 
attained  without  breaking  the  bonds  of  family  life,  as 

*  'FjKelvog  uvcpag  viko.  6  7«/'<<J  Kai  TraicoTroi^  Kai  tij  tov  o'Uov  Trpovoic/. 
fa')]c6i^u>Q  Tt  Kcit  aXvTrrjTiog  lyyimviinaf.m>OQ  acuKTraroQ  Ttjg  tov  Qtov  yivo' 
fxeroc  ayc'iTD^Q.     Clement,  "  Strom.  V  vii.  12,  70. 

t  T(p  ^k  doiKtii  TO.  TToXXd  f.vai  avfi^s^i]Kfv  inretpd<jT<i>.      Ibid. 


CHRISTIANITY   AND    ASCETICISM.  483 

we  see  from  the  example  of  the  apostles,  then  the  elders 
and  bishops  can  be  under  no  obligation  to  celibacy. 
They  are  not  destined  to  a  life  apart  from  their  brethren; 
rather  are  they  their  representatives.  No  other  view 
can  be  taken  of  their  office  without  gravely  impinging 
on  the  doctrine  of  the  universal  priesthood  of  Christians, 
and  no  such  attempt  was  seriously  made  during  the 
second  century.  No  objection  was  raised  to  the  mar- 
riage of  the  clergy.  We  find  Cyprian  even,  in  the  middle 
of  the  third  century,  when  the  idea  of  asceticism  had 
advanced  step  by  step  with  the  sacerdotal  theory, 
bringing;  a  grave  charge  against  a  priest,  Novatus,  not 
for  being  married,  but  for  having  ill-treated  his  pregnant 
wife."-' 

From  the  close  of  the  second  century,  however,  the 
tendency  to  asceticism  began  to  develope  itself  in  the 
Church.!  It  was,  indeed,  almost  impossible  for  Chris- 
tianity to  escape  the  prevailing  tendencies  of  the  age. 
However  successful  the  logical  assaults  upon  Gnosticism, 
the  steady  growth  in  the  number  of  its  adherents  proved 
that  it  was  adapted  to  meet  many  secret  instincts  of 
the  soul.  Reproducing  oriental  theosophy  under  Chris- 
tian symbols,  it  pronounced  upon  creation  the  same 
sentence  of  death  as  dualism,  and  thus  harmonised 
with  the  bitter  and  melancholy  mood  of  a  period  of 
decay.  At  the  same  time  its  pretension  to  open  to  the 
initiate  the  way  to  attain  perfection  by  means  of  science 
and  asceticism  gratified  human  pride.  What  can  be 
more  flattering  to  man's  self-love  than  a  scheme  which 
offers  him  salvation  by  his  own  peculiar  merits  ?     We 

*  "  Ute-us  uxoris  calce  percussus."     Cyprian,  "Ep."  52,  3. 
t  See  Baur,  "  Das  Christenth.  der  drei  erst.  Jahrhund."  p.  462 

32* 


484  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

have  observed,  as  flowing  side  b}^  side  with  the  normal 
current  of  Christian  thought,  another  secret  current 
which  carried  along  with  it  the  popular  imagination 
and  presently  the  Church  also.  We  trace  its  course 
in  that  curious  apocryphal  literature,  which  expresses 
exactly  that  which  pleased  the  simple  and  ignorant. 
Now  this  literature  is  thoroughly  imbued  with  asceti- 
cism, both  in  its  fictitious  gospels  and  in  its  apostolic 
legends,  which  are  sometimes  clothed  in  really  striking 
forms.'"  The  tendency  of  that  curious  romance  of  the 
"Clementines  "  is  to  the  most  rigid  asceticism,  advo- 
cating the  constitution  of  a  new  people  of  God,  to  be 
entirely  separated  from  the  world  by  their  contempt  for 
both  wealth  and  social  life.  The  idea  that  marriage  is 
essentially  a  defilement  is  presented,  not  without  some 
poetical  colouring,  in  the  "  Acts  of  Thomas."  The 
"Acts  of  Thekla"  give  us  the  picture  of  the  Christian 
Virgin,  whose  pre-eminent  virtue  is  celibacy.  "  Pastor 
Hermas,"  which  exercised  so  great  an  influence  in  the 
Church  of  the  second  century,  tends  in  the  same  direc- 
tion, and  holds  up  to  admiration  the  complete  chastity 
which  treats  a  wife  as  a  sister.t  Poverty  also  is  praised 
for  its  own  sake,  the  world  and  all  that  belongs  to  it 
being  regarded  as  the  property  of  a  satanic  power. 

Montanism  greatly  strengthened  this  ascetic  tendency 
by  its  peculiar  doctrines  as  to  the  near  end  of  the  world 
and  its  insistance  on  the  necessity  of  coming  out  of 
accursed  Sodom,  and  watching  day  by  day  in  fasting, 

*  See  "Early  Years  of  Christianity,"  vol.  iii.  Heresy  and  Christian 
Doctrine,  p.  65. 

t  "  Conjugis  tuse  quae  futura  est  soror  tua."  "Hermas,"  book  i. 
"  Visio  "  ii.  2. 


CHRISTIANITY    AND    ASCETICISM.  485 

continence,  and  prayer,  for  the  coming  of  the  heavenly 
bridegroom.  It  would  be  needless  for  us  to  review 
again  the  Montanist  system,  since  we  have  already 
said  enough  to  show  that  its  peculiar  teachings  tended 
simply  to  strengthen  certain  tendencies  already  existing 
in  the  Church,  without  deviating  broadly  from  its 
doctrine.  Hence  the  influence  gained  by  this  ardent 
and  austere  sect,  which  sustained  the  ancient  rights  of 
the  Christian  laity  at  once  by  a  gloomy  fanaticism  and 
by  the  purest  virtues.  The  Church,  in  truth,  saw  her 
own  sentiments  reflected  in  the  favourite  notions  of  the 
Montanists.  She  also,  in  the  days  when  fierce  perse- 
cution was  at  its  height,  believed  that  the  end  of  all 
things  was  at  hand.  "The  world  is  growing  old,"  said 
Cyprian,  "  it  has  no  longer  the  strength  it  once  pos- 
sessed. Like  the  sun  at  evening,  it  is  tending  to  its 
decline ;  the  earth  is  growing  miserly ;  all  things 
languish."'"  Another  influence  which  did  still  more  to 
foster  asceticism  was  the  prevailing  belief  among  the 
Christians  of  that  day  that  paganism  was  the  reign  of 
the  demon,  that  evil  spirits  still  governed  the  world, 
and  were  active  and  mighty  with  their  seductive  arts. 
Without  admitting  that  creation  was  the  work  of  a 
malevolent  demiurgus,  they  believed  that  from  the 
time  of  man's  fall  the  demoniacal  agencies  had  pos- 
sessed great  power.  They  traced  their  presence  not 
only  on  Olympus,  which  they  had  peopled  with  false 
gods,  but  in  the  general  life  of  humanity  sold  under 
sin,  and  especially  in  the  false  splendours  and  fascina- 
tions of  pagan  life.  This  demonology,  which  occupies 
so  large  a  place  in  the  theology  even  of  so  lofty  a  spirit 

*  "  Scire  debes  senuisse  jam  mundum."     Cyprian,  **  Ad  Demet."  3. 


486  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

as  Justin  Martyr,  is  altogether  favourable  to  asceti- 
cism, since  its  tendency  is  to  urge  men  to  flee  from  a 
world  governed  by  the  spirit  of  evil,  the  deadly  influence 
of  which  is  felt  on  every  hand,  and  most  of  all  in  the 
dangerous  fascination  of  woman — the  Eve  who  is  ever 
holding  out  to  man  the  forbidden  fruit.  In  the  midst 
of  so  many  provocations  to  sensuality,  conscious  of  the 
sin  mingling  with  the  very  life-blood  in  his  veins  and 
ever  ready  to  pervert  the  natural  instincts  to  unlawful 
uses,  the  disciple  of  the  new  faith  was  led  to  exaggerate 
the  requirements  of  prudence,  to  confound  simple  obe- 
dience to  the  law  of  nature  with  impure  self-indulgence, 
and  to  seek  perfection  not  in  the  ordinary  course  of  life 
but  in  that  which  was  exceptional.  A  very  important 
consequence  followed  from  this  abandonment  of  primi- 
tive spirituality,  which  had  dealt  less  with  acts  than 
with  the  spirit  and  motive  in  which  they  were  done, 
and  which  had  claimed  to  set  the  Divine  seal  on  the 
entire  life  in  all  its  diversified  relations.  The  life  of  the 
ascetic  must  be  always  an  exceptional  one ;  it  could 
never  be  made  the  general  rule.  Hence  there  follows 
of  necessity  the  recognition  of  two  standards  of  mo- 
rality— the  one  applicable  to  the  mass  of  men  in  their 
ordinary  life,  the  other  restricted  to  the  select  few. 
Above  the  commandment  addressed  to  all,  we  find  the 
evangelical  counsel,  which  is  for  the  minority  only,  and 
foremost  among  this  minority  naturally  appear  the 
clergy,  who,  now  that  a  hierarchy  is  growing  up  in- 
stead of  the  universal  priesthood,  are  regarded  as  the 
special  heritage  of  the  Lord.  There  is  nothing  as- 
tonishing in  the  progress  of  asceticism  in  an  age  when 
the  clerical  idea  was  gaining  ascendency.     Its  growth 


CHRISTIANITY    AND    ASCETICISM.  487 

was  promoted  also  by  the  decline  of  the  evangelical 
doctrine  of  salvation  ;  for  everything  which  tended  to 
detract  from  the  freeness  of  the  Divine  pardon,  and 
to  attach  an  expiatory  value  to  the  acts  of  men, 
was  so  much  gained  to  the  cause  of  asceticism.  The 
large  accessions  to  the  number  of  the  Christians  in  the 
intervals  of  persecution  tended  in  the  same  direction  ; 
discipline  was  less  easily  maintained  in  large  Churches, 
which  admitted  to  their  communion  men  without  real 
piety,  who,  in  joining  the  Church,  acted  rather  under 
an  impulsive  feeling  than  from  a  sincere  desire  to 
change  their  lives.  As  the  general  level  of  piety  sank, 
the  truly  pious  sought  refuge  from  the  prevailing  world- 
liness  in  a  course  of  asceticism. 

It  was  in  reference  to  the  question  of  second  mar- 
riages that  asceticism  gained  its  first  victory,  for  we 
can  only  regard  as  an  isolated  instance  of  exaggeration 
the  imprudent  language  of  Tatian,  which  would  seem 
to  imply  nothing  less  than  a  total  condemnation  of 
marriage,  and  the  recommendation  of  almost  entire 
abstinence.'"  We  have  conclusive  proof  that  the  Church 
did  not  encourage  these  extreme  opinions  in  the  fact 
that  Alcibiades,  who  had  lived  like  a  fakir  in  the 
Church  of  Lyons,  when  cast  into  prison  in  the  time  of 
persecution,  was  convinced  of  his  error  by  one  of  his 
fellow-prisoners,  named  Attains ;  and  while  awaiting 
martyrdom,  consented  to  partake  of  the  offerings  brought 
by  the  abundant  charity  of  the  brethren,  and  took  food 
with  the  rest.t  The  scruple  with  regard  to  second 
marriages,  which  arose  out  of  a  misread  passage  of  St. 

*  Tatian,  "  Orat.  ad  Gri"ecos,"  2. 
1  AXki^icccov  Trdyu  ai'xf^7]  wv  iSiovPTog  (3iov,     Eusebius,  "  H.  E."  v.  3. 


488  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

Paul's  letter  to  Timothy,  gained  a  firmer  and  firmer 
hold."  Athenagoras  had  already  branded  such  mar- 
riages as  no  better  than  decent  adultery,  and  Justin 
had  described  them  with  equal  severity.  Tertullian 
denounces  them  with  remarkable  vigour  in  treatises 
which,  in  spite  of  their  Montanist  tone*,  exerted  a  great 
influence  over  the  Church.  He  is  not  content  to  urge 
considerations  of  feeling  which  should  make  the  conjugal 
tie  perpetual  after  death,  by  virtue  of  those  sacred 
memories  which  are  an  integral  part  of  our  very  life. 
He  declares  vsecond  marriages  to  be  also  in  conflict 
with  the  primeval  law  of  marriage  promulgated  by  the 
Creator  in  the  garden  of  Eden.t  The  Old  Testament 
only  connived  at  them  by  a  momentary  concession  to 
human  weakness.  If  St.  Paul  appears  reluctantly  to 
allow  them  in  certain  cases,  this  is  also  only  a  tempo- 
rary compromise,  to  be  abrogated  by  the  Paraclete.  J 
Moreover,  in  forbidding  second  marriages  to  the  clergy, 
the  apostle  implicitly  forbids  them  to  all  Christians, 
since  there  is  no  essential  difference  between  the  laity 
and  the  priests. § 

It  was  vain  to  use  casuistry,  it  was  not  possible 
to  show  that  second  marriages  were  condemned  by 
Scripture,  hence  it  was  necessary  in  order  to  discourage 
them  to  have  recourse  to  that  higher  morality  which  was 
of  restricted  application.  Tertullian  recognises  two  ma- 
nifestations of  the  Divine  will,  the  one  which  simply 
tolerates  that  which  it  cannot  prevent ;  the  other  which 
exhibits  God's  preference.  ||     The  latter  reveals  to    us 

*  I  Tim,  iii.  2.  t  Tertullian,  "  Monog. "  9,  lo. 

I  lhi(\  4-5.  §  Ibid.  14. 

!',  "  Non  statim  onine  quod  permitlitur  ex  mera  et  tota  voluntate  pro- 
cedit  ejus."     "  De  exhort,  castit."  3, 


CHRISTIANITY   AND    ASCETICISM.  489 

the  three  orders  of  perfection — virginity,  abstinence  in 
marriage,  and  widowhood. ■=  Substantially  the  argu- 
ments used  against  second  marriages  were  equally  valid 
in  reference  to  marriage  altogether.  Their  essence  was 
not  delicacy  of  affection  for  the  dead,  it  was  a  growing 
antipathy  to  the  union  of  the  sexes.  TertuUian  does 
not  disguise  this,  and  says  that  the  indulgence  which 
Paul  shows  for  marriage  is  rather  to  be  imputed  to  him- 
self than  to  God,  for  he  is  careful  to  tell  us  that  he  is 
speaking  in  his  own  name.t  This-  prejudice  against 
marriage  was  not  restricted  to  the  Montanists ;  it 
gained  an  ever-growing  hold  of  the  Christian  conscience, 
leading  it  astray.  Origen  showed  himself  both  by 
word  and  deed  altogether  favourable  to  asceticism. 
*'  All  the  evil  which  reigns  in  the  body  comes  from  the 
five  senses, "J  he  says.  The  Platonic  elements  which 
the  great  Alexandrian  blended  with  Christianity  made 
him  regard  the  body  as  inherently  evil.  The  flesh  is  the 
covering  of  skin  in  which  God  enshrouded  the  fallen 
soul,  and  is  its  first  chastisement. §  Although  the  Church 
did  not  follow  Origen  in  this  ingenious  resuscitation  of 
dualism  divested  of  its  fatalistic  character,  his  influence 
nevertheless  tended  largely  to  exalt  a  false  idealism  by 
representing  voluntary  celibacy  as  the  highest  state  of 
perfection.  He  held  up  to  admiration  not  only  a  life  of 
purity  but  one  of  absolute  continence.  || 

Cyprian,  who  is  far   more  truly  than  TertuUian  or 

*  TertuUian,  "  Monog."  I.  f  Ibid.  3. 

I  Quia  omne  viiium  quod  regnat  in  corporeex  quinque  sensibus  pendet." 
Origen,  "  In  Numer.  homil."  25,  3, 

§  Ibid.  *'  Selecta  in  Genes."  ii.  29. 

II  "  Et  primitive  nihilominus  possunt  intelligi  Ecclesiae  virgines ;  decimae 
quoque  ii  qui  post  conjugium  continentes  et  caste  vixerint."  Ibid. 
"In  Numer.  homil."  xi.  3. 


490  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

Origen  the  representative  of  the  Church  of  his  time, 
gives  equal  honour  to  virginity.  He  extols  it  as  the 
flower  of  the  Church,  its  glory  and  crown,  the  true 
reflection  of  the  Divine  image  in  all  its  purit}^,  the 
noblest  portion  of  the  Church  of  Christ  ;  in  it  the 
glorious  fecundity  of  the  mother  Church  most  em- 
phatically appears.''' 

However  the  Church  might  glory  in  the  triumphs  of 
celibacy  from  the  middle  of  the  third  century,  it  was 
too  wise  to  make  it  a  general  rule,  and  thus  to  justify 
the  charge  freely  brought  against  it  of  being  the  enemy 
of  the  human  race.  It  adopted  the  theory  of  the 
evangelical  counsel,  while  at  the  same  time  main- 
taining the  lawfulness  of  marriage  for  the  majority  of 
Christian  people.  TertuUian  himself  could  not  but  ad- 
mit this,  repugnant  as  it  Vv-as  to  him.  "  If  there  were 
no  marriage,"  he  says,  "  what  would  become  of  man- 
kind, and  of  the  very  man  who  opposes  it  ?  "  If  mar- 
riage were  impossible,  there  would  be  no  room  for 
continence  with  its  voluntary  sacrifices. t  The  wise 
Dionysius  of  Alexandria  found  better  reasons  in  its 
defence,  when  he  reproached  an  ardent  advocate  of 
asceticism  with  laying  on  men's  shoulders  a  burden  too 
grievous  to  be  borne. J  Marriage  was  therefore  looked 
upon  as  legitimate  for  the  general  body  of  believers,  but 
nevertheless  as  an  inferior  condition  of  the  spiritual  life. 
Thus  the  tendency  to  interdict  it  in  the  case  of  the 
clergy  grew  stronger  day  by  day.  We  have  seen  that 
second  marriages    were   forbidden    to  these   from    the 

*  "Flos  est  ecclesiastic!  germinis,  decus  atque  oriiamentum  gratise 
spiritualis,  Dei  imago  respondens  ad  sanctimouiam  Domini,  illustrior 
portio  gregis  Christi."     Cyprian,  "  De  habitu  virgin."  3. 

t  TertuUian,  "Contra  Marc."  i.  29.  J  Eusebius,  "  H.  E."  iv.  23. 


CHRISTIANITY   AND    ASCETICISM.  491 

second  century;  at  the  close  of  the  next  century  first 
marriages  were  only  tolerated  in  the  case  of  bishops 
and  priests  when  the  engagement  had  been  entered  into 
before  their  ordination."  The  Council  of  Smyrna  in 
the  year  305  allowed  exceptions  only  in  the  case  of 
deacons. t  Bishops  and  priests  who  had  contracted 
marriage  before  entering  on  their  office  were  forbidden 
to  separate  from  their  wives.:}:  The  Council  of  Elvira 
made  a  violent  innovation,  when  it  required  the 
married  clergy  to  abstain  from  conjugal  life.§  The 
Council  of  Nicgea  revoked  this  rule,  which  had  been 
passed  in  the  excitement  of  an  impending  persecution. 
Voluntary  virginity  was  encouraged  beyond  the  ranks 
of  the  clergy,  as  is  shown  by  the  high  eulogiums  lavished 
on  it  by  Cyprian.  Origen,  before  him,  had  praised 
those  who  chose  the  life  of  a  recluse  and  took  a  vow  of 
voluntary  poverty  in  order  to  serve  God  without  distrac- 
tion. He  says,  "  If  a  man  has  given  himself  wholly  to 
God,  if  he  has  laid  aside  all  the  cares  of  this  present 
life,  if  he  has  separated  himself  from  other  men  who 
live  for  it,  seeking  no  longer  the  things  which  are  below 
but  those  which  are  above,  he  is  truly  worthy  to  be 
called  a  saint.  ||" 

The  same  principles  were  applied  to  fasting.  Mon- 
tanism  exerted  a  most  important  influence  on  this  point 
also;  and  while  the  Church  did  not  copy  its  example 

*  Mj)  k^EivoL  avToiQ  ixETCL  x^tpoTOviau  dyuf.ioic  oiaiv  'in  iiri  yd^ov  'ipxioQai. 
"Const.  Apost.'' vi.  17. 

t  "Concil.  Ancyr."     Canon  lo. 

X  "  Canones  eccles.  qui  dicuntur  apostol."     Canon  6. 

§  "  Concil.  Elliberit. "     Canon  33. 

!|  "Si  quis  separatus  est  et  segregafus  a  reliquis  hominibus  carnaliter 
viventibus,  iste  merito  sanctus  appellatur."  Origen,  "In  Levitic.  homil." 
xi.  I. 


492  THE    EARLY   CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

in  an  abstinence  worthy  of  Pythagoreans,  it  did  accept 
its  theory  of  the  expiatory  value  of  fasting.  In  the 
time  of  Tertullian  the  Church  still  used  large  liberty 
in  this  respect.  There  was  no  compulsory  fast,  except 
that  of  the  great  Easter  week,  on  the  night  commemo- 
rative of  the  entombment  of  Christ.'''  The  rules  for 
fasting,  however,  were  soon  multiplied,  and  the  custom 
of  observing  as  days  of  vigil  the  Wednesday  and  Friday 
in  each  week,  in  memory  of  the  Passion,  became  more 
and  more  general.  Even  the  garments  to  be  worn  on 
these  occasions  were  subsequently  appointed  by  ecclesi- 
astical rule.  The  idea  that  the  perfect  Christian  should 
show  in  his  outward  garb  the  austerity  of  his  life  is 
germinally  present  in  Tertullian's  treatise  on  the 
mantle. i  Its  first  application  w^as  naturally  to  the 
clergy.  The  Church  thus  drifted  away  further  and  further 
from  the  grand  doctrine  of  the  equality  of  all  Christians 
which  at  first  pervaded  its  entire  life.  In  proportion  as 
the  evangelical  counsel  gained  ground  the  common 
life  of  the  Christian  community  declined,  and  the  sup- 
posed elevation  of  the  few  implied  the  degradation  of 
the  many.  The  subsequent  periods  of  the  history  of 
the  Church  show  how  dearly  purchased  was  this  false 
semblance  of  superior  piety  in  the  guise  of  asceticism. 

*  Tert'illian,  "  De  iejnn."  2. 
t  See  the  Treatise  of  Tertullian,  '*  De  pallio." 


493 


CHAPTER  VII. 

THE    CHRISTIANITY   OF   THE    CATACOMBS.* 

It  is  not  our  design  to  take  up  the  archaeological  ques- 
tions which  arise  out  of  the  catacombs  of  Rome :  our 
idea  is  only  to  draw  from  the  symbolical  inscriptions 
which  cover  their  walls  some  information  as  to  the  life 
of  the  Christians  in  the  second  and  third  centuries  of 
our  era,  and  thus  at  once  to  sum  up  and  to  confirm 
this  history  of  the  primitive  Church.  There  is  no 
historical  monument  comparable  to  the  catacombs  as  a 
source  of  intimate  knowledge  of  a  religion  through  the 

*  M.  Rossi's  extensive  work,  "  La  Roma  sotterranea,"  of  which  the  first 
two  volumes  have  appeared,  and  which  cannot  be  separated  from  his 
"  Bulletin©  di  Archeologica  Christiana,"  is  the  great  authority  for  all  con- 
nected with  this  subject.  (De  Rossi,  "Roma  sotterranea  Christiana," vols, 
i.  and  ii.  ;  "Roma  Cromolitographia  pontificia. "  By  the  same  author, 
"  Bulletino  di  Archeologica  Christiana,"  1863-1877.)  It  is  by  the  aid  of 
these  documents,  confirmed  and  verified  by  a  personal  study  of  the  monu- 
ments of  Christian  Rome,  that  the  writer  now  supplements  his  former 
exposition  of  this  great  subject.  The  reader  is  referred  further  to  the 
'■' Dictionnaire  des  antiquites  Chretiennes,"  by  the  Abbe  Martigny  (Paris, 
Hachette,  18651,  and  to  the  excellent  work  of  M.  le  Blant,  "Inscriptions 
Chretiennes  de  la  Gaule  (vols.  i.  and  ii.  Paris,  Imprimerie  Nationale,  1865), 
and  to  M.  de  Rossi's  work,  "Inscription.  Christ,  urbis  Romae  septimo 
sasculo  antiquiores,"  vol.  i.  Rome,  1 861.  See  also  "  Subterranean  Rome," 
an  epitome  of  M.  de  Rossi's  discoveries  in  the  Roman  catacombs,  by  J. 
Spencer  Northcote  and  William  R.  Brownton.  I  desire  to  tender  my  ac- 
knowledgments to  M.  T.  Roller  for  having  kindly  allowed  me  to  see  some 
important  passages  of  the  great  work  he  is  about  to  publish  on  the  cata- 
combs with  this  title,  "  Les  Catacombes  de  Rome.  Histoire  de  I'art  et  des 
croyances  religieuses  pendantles  premiers  ages  du  Christianisme." 


494  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

feelings  of  its  faithful  adherents.  In  fact,  the  first 
Christian  cemeteries  have  this  peculiar  interest  for  us, 
that  we  find  in  them  the  spontaneous  utterances  of  the 
heart,  never  intended  for  the  public  eye,  and  which  are 
therefore  far  more  trustworthy  than  the  studied  and 
formal  statements  of  religious  thought  and  feeling  which 
we  get  in  books.  The  catacombs  show  us  the  inner 
life  of  the  Christians  in  all  its  simplicity  as  it  sought 
expression  in  its  hours  of  deepest  grief.  The  voice  we 
hear  is  not  that  of  a  bishop  or  doctor  speaking  ex  ca- 
thedrd,  but  the  voice  of  Rachel  weeping  for  her  children, 
of  Martha  and  Mary  by  the  grave  of  Lazarus  pouring 
forth  at  once  their  sorrow  and  their  hope.  We  find 
the  record  of  the  Church's  faith  and  unfaltering  courage 
over  the  tombs  of  her  glorious  martyrs,  and  the  simple 
story  of  family  affection  traced  in  trembling  lines  or  set 
forth  in  some  touching  symbol.  We  attach  peculiar 
importance  to  these  unstudied  revelations  of  the 
thoughts  and  feelings  of  the  early  Christians,  made  in 
moments  when  the  human  heart  was  stirred  to  its 
depths,  and  the  life  raised  by  the  pressure  of  grief  above 
its  ordinary  level.  It  would  be  altogether  erroneous  to 
suppose  that  in  such  hours  a  man  is  less  himself  than 
in  the  commonplace  round  of  daily  existence.  On  the 
contrary,  these  are  the  true  revealing  moments  v.hen 
the  veil  of  conventionalities  is  rent  by  the  rude  hand  of 
death ;  and  thus  in  many  respects  we  find  in  the  cata- 
combs our  surest  and  most  valuable  source  of  informa- 
tion about  the  inner  life  of  the  first  Christians. 

It  is  simply  impossible  to  convey  in  words  the  im- 
pression produced  as  we  walk  through  those  long  dark 
passages,  the  v/alls  of  which  contain  so  many  sacred 


THE    CHRISTIANITY    OF    THE    CATACOMBS.  495 

remains,  and  are  covered  with  innumerable  inscriptions 
and  symbolical  frescoes.  It  seems  as  though  all  that 
sacred  dust  revived,  kindled  by  the  immortal  flame  that 
dwelt  within  it;  as  though  the  vision  of  the  prophet  of 
Israel  were  repeated.  The  dead  bones  live,  and  the 
heroic  Church  of  the  first  ages-  stands  before  us  vic- 
torious over  all  her  pretended  victors,  whose  defeat  she 
foretold  in  her  expressive  symbols.  To  one  familiar 
with  this  great  past  of  the  Church  it  all  becomes  again 
a  living  reality  in  the  catacombs,  and  he  gains  one  of 
those  rapid  intuitions  never  to  be  forgotten,  which  over- 
leap ages  in  a  moment,  and  make  him  live,  as  it  were, 
in  the  dim  past. 

We  shall  not  dwell  at  any  length  on  the  origin  of  the 
catacombs,  since  the  subject  is  too  extensive,  but  shall 
briefly  recapitulate  generally  received  results.  We  have 
already  shown  that  the  catacombs  must  not  be  con- 
founded with  the  vast  quarries  out  of  which  Rome  was 
built.  W^hile  these  quarries  are  arranged  for  a  multi- 
tude of  labourers,  and  are  hollowed  in  the  tufa  lithdide, 
the  catacombs  are  formed  in  the  tufa  granolare^  and 
consist  of  a  succession  of  narrow  passages  crossing 
each  other  and  broken  by  vaulted  caves  called  ^rcoso/z'^, 
in  which  the  great  symbolical  frescoes  were  placed. 
Each  catacomb  contains  several  stories,  connected  by 
stairs  :  small  openings  make  a  passage  for  the  air.  In 
these  walls  were  spaces  left  in  the  masonry  called  locidi, 
in  which  the  remains  of  the  dead  were  laid.  They  were 
closed  with  tiles  or  slabs  of  marble,  on  which  were 
placed  the  inscriptions  and  frescoes.  The  principal 
catacombs  of  the  Via  Appia  and  of  the  Via  Ardentina 
are  those  of  Callixtus,  of  Domitilla  (which  bears  also  the 


49^  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

names  of  Achilles  and  Nereus,  her  chamberlains,  who 
were  beheaded  for  their  faith),  and  lastly,  of  St.  Pre- 
textatus.  The  catacomb  of  St.  Agnes  is  on  the  Via 
Nomentana ;  that  of  Priscilla  and  of  Saturninus  on  the 
Via  Salaria;  that  of  St.  Peter  and  Marcellinus  on  the 
Via  Labicana,  not  far  from  St.  John  de  Lateran  ;  that 
of  St.  Pontianus  on  the  Via  Portesa.  Another  cata- 
comb has  been  discovered  on  this  same  way,  occupying 
in  1869  the  site  of  the  entombment  of  the  Fratres 
Arvales.  This  is  probably  that  which  was  known  under 
the  name  of  Santa  Generosa.  The  catacomb  of  St. 
Sebastian  is  on  the  Via  Appia,  the  only  one  of  which 
any  knowledge  was  retained  in  the  middle  ages.  It 
has  been  despoiled  of  its  ornaments,  and  is  of  inferior 
interest.-'' 

We  have  refuted  the  mistaken  idea  that  the  Chris- 
tians used  their  cemeteries  as  subterranean  chapels,  in 
which  to  worship.  This  was  never  the  case.  We 
know  that  they  only  began  to  have  religious  edifices, 
properly  so  called,  in  the  third  century,  and  that  they 
then  possessed  a  considerable  number  in  the  city. 
Under  Alexander  Severus  more  than  forty  were  counted. 
It  is  beyond  doubt  that  in  the  height  of  the  persecu- 
tions they  often  sought  refuge  in  the  catacombs.  It  is 
equally  certain  that  the  obsequies,  especiall}'  of  con- 
fessors, were    celebrated    there  by  torchlight,   and  in 

*  The  principal  excavations  made  by  M.  Rossi  are  described  in  the  two 
volumes  of  his  "  Roma  hotterranea  "  already  issued.  Since  then  his  most 
important  discovery  in  the  catacombs  has  been  that  of  the  Basilica  of  St. 
Petronilla,  on  the  site  of  the  tomb  of  the  martyrs  Achilles  and  Nereus.  He 
there  found  a  form  representing  a  matron  being  welcomed  by  Petronilla 
into  Paradise.  See  "  Bulletin  d'archeol.  Chret."  1874,  Nos.  I,  2,  4;  1875, 
No.  I,  Both  the  basilica  and  the  fresco,  however,  belong  to  the  fourth 
century,  and  do  not  come  therefore  within  the  scope  of  this  work. 


THE    CHRISTIANITY    OF    THE    CATACOMBS.  497 

the  presence  of  large  concourses  of  people.  The  cata- 
comb was  always  essentially  the  Christian  cemetery : 
this  is  its  true  description.  The  adherents  of  the  pro- 
scribed religion  desired  to  rest  in  death  side  by  side 
with  the  martyrs  who  had  sustained  the  honour  of  their 
cause.  The  Church  loved  to  gather,  even  at  the  grave, 
around  her  confessors,  as  an  army  forms  its  ranks 
around  its  valiant  captains.  The  tombs  of  the  martyrs 
are  not  to  be  distinguished  with  certainty  by  any  out- 
ward sign.  What  were  supposed  to  be  instruments  of 
torture  represented  in  the  catacombs,  are  now  dis- 
covered to  be  implements  of  labour.  The  vases  once 
imagined  to  contain  the  coagulated  blood  of  the  con- 
fessors, prove  to  be  only  eucharistic  vessels,  as  is 
shown  by  such  inscriptions  as  this,  "Drink  reverently." 
The  only  certain  indication  of  the  tombs  of  the  martyrs 
are  those  supplied  by  the  itineraries  of  the  pilgrims,  or 
the  epitaphs. 

If  we  seek  to  learn  from  the  catacombs  something  of 
the  spiritual  life  of  the  Church  of  the  early  ages,  we  can 
trace  it  under  various  aspects.  The  extent  of  its  mis- 
sions, and  the  triumphs  which  crowned  its  vast  and 
unceasing  labours,  are  evidenced  by  the  countless  host 
of  those  whose  graves  fill  the  city  of  the  dead  :  they 
are  estimated  at  several  millions.  The  inscriptions  on 
the  tombs  show  that  the  converts  to  Christianity  were 
gathered  from  all  classes,  and  that  the  higher  ranks 
of  Roman  society  supplied  a  large  contingent.  The  il- 
lustrious families  of  the  Caecilii,  the  ^milii,  the  Octavii, 
and  Cornelii,  and  even  the  imperial  houses  of  Domitian 
and  Flavian,  have  their   representatives  in   the   cata- 

53 


4q8  the  early  christian  church. 

combs.*  The  ground  in  which  the  first  galleries  of  the 
catacomb  of  St.  Callixtus  were  built  was  given  to  the 
Church  by  a  lady  of  high  rank,  who  had  received  the 
surname  of  Lucina. 

As  this  pa;rt  of  the  catacombs  is  as  old  as  the  foun- 
dation of  the  Church  of  Rome,  the  attempt  has  been 
made  to  discover  what  patrician  of  the  first  century 
could  have  given  so  striking  a  proof  of  her  generosity 
to  the  Christians.  We  learn  from  Tacitus  that  a  great 
lady  of  the  illustrious  family  of  Pomponius  Bassus, 
called  Pomponia  Graecina,  was  with  great  difficulty  ac- 
quitted, through  her  husband's  efforts,  of  the  charge  of 
having  embraced  a  dark  and  gloomy  creed,  which  may 
easily  have  been  that  of  the  Christians. t  The  fact  that 
a  tomb  has  been  discovered  in  the  catacomb  given  by 
Lucina  to  the  Church,  bearing  the  name  of  Pomponius 
Grcrcinns,  proves  that  one  of  the  descendants  of  this 
great  Roman  lady  was  buried  there.  It  is  easy  to  con- 
ceive that,  in  the  event  of  her  having  made  such  a  gift 
to  the  Church,  a  place  may  have  been  reserved  for  her 
posterity.  The. catacomb  of  Domitilla,  which  is  also  of 
high  antiquity,  is  a  memorial  of  the  generosity  of  Fiavia 
Domitilla,  who  belonged  to  the  imperial  noblesse. 
These  conversions  to  Christianity  among  the  Roman 
aristocracy  do  not  at  all  impugn  its  success  at  the  same 
time  as  a  mission  work  among  the  poor  :  the  nameless 
multitudes  who  fill  the  catacombs  belonged  to  the  des- 
pised and  oppressed  lower  classes.     In  this  blending  of 

*  Rossi,  "  Roma  sotterranea,"  vol.  iii.  c.  I-3.  M.  Rossi  has  found  in 
the  catacombs  of  "  Domitilla  "  several  inscriptions  belonging  to  the  Flavian 
family,  among  others,  this  in  Greek  characters,  "F.avius  Sabinus  et 
Tatiana,"  aCfXcpoi.     "  Bulletin  d'archeo!.  Chret."  ii.  p.  ^oet  se^. 

t  Tacitus,  "Annals,"  xiii.  32, 


THE    CHRISTIANITY    OF    THE    CATACOMBS.  499 

all  ranks  is  emphatic  evidence  of  the  power  of  Christi- 
anity to  vindicate  the  claim  of  humanity,  and  to  main- 
tain it  in  the  presence  of  death  and  eternity  as  above  all 
social  distinctions. 

The  catacomb  is  not  the  common  pit  of  the  Esquiline 
Gate,  into  which  the  corpses  of  slaves  and  artisans  were 
thrown,  nor  is  it  the  magnificent  Cohimbariiim  attached 
to  great  houses :  it  is  the  Ccemeterium,  the  place  where 
rich  and  poor  sleep  side  by  side  till  the  resurrection 
morning.  The  nearer  v/e  get  to  the  primitive  age  of 
Christianity,  the  more  completely  do  we  find  all  social 
distinctions  effaced.  The  most  erudite  explorers  of 
Christian  antiquity  agree  in  acknowledging  that  the  old 
inscriptions  are  absolutely  silent  as  to  the  rank  of  the 
Christians  buried  in  the  catacombs  :  of  all  the  thousands 
of  epitaphs  that  have  been  deciphered,  two  only  make 
allusion  to  the  condition  of  slave  or  free  man.  All  the 
rest  pass  over  in  silence  those  antecedents  of  the  life 
which  form  so  elaborate  a  part  of  most  pagan  inscrip- 
tions.''' 

The  catacombs  bear  witness  also  to  that  other  great 
social  revolution,  closely  allied  to  the  first,  which  re- 
moved the  reproach  from  free  labour.  As  we  have 
already  observed,  the  supposed  instruments  of  torture 
prove  to  be  for  the  most  part  merely  mechanics'  tools. 
These  find  an  honourable  place  in  the  frescoes  on  the 
tombs.  There  we  see  the  smith  striking  his  anvil, 
while  his  comrade  blows  the  forge  ;  there  is  the  comb 
of  the  wool-carder,  the  spade  and  pruning-knife  of  the 

*  See  Rossi's  "  Inscriptioncs  Christianse  urbis  Romse  septimo  seculo 
antiquiores,"  vol.  i.  Rome,  1861.  "■■  Prolegom."  §  4.  Edmond  le  Blant, 
"  Inscriptions  Chredennes  de  la  Gaule,''  i.  119. 

33  * 


500  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

gardener,  the  vessel  full  of  corn,  which  is  the  usual  sign 
of  the  baker :  none  of  these  trades,  not  even  that  of 
the  fossor,  is  degrading.  Labour  is  in  itself  honourable 
and  honoured.*  The  Church  seems  to  have  endeavoured 
in  these  catacombs,  where  she  was  free  from  all  re- 
straint, to  indicate  by  the  most  significant  symbols  the 
nature  of  the  great  social  reform  at  which  she  aimed. 
We  are  carried  back  to  the  time  when  she  enjoyed  per- 
fect freedom  in  all  her  offices,  by  the  remarkable  inscrip- 
tion in  the  cemetery  of  Callixtus,  which  describes  a 
Christian  named  Dionysius  as  fulfilling  at  once  the 
duties  of  priest  and  physician. t  This  denotes  the 
absence  of  any  distinction  between  sacred  and  profane, 
between  the  activity  of  the  layman  and  the  duties  of 
the  priest.  Thus  the  grand  unity  of  the  reHgious  life 
was  affirmed  in  a  manner  perfectly  simple  and  clear. 

We  need  not  again  dwell  at  any  length  on  the  infor- 
mation supplied  by  the  catacombs  with  regard  to  the 
persecutions.  Here  we  find  the  great  and  glorious  poem 
of  martyrdom  graven  on  stone.  The  catacomb  of  St. 
Callixtus  had  the  honour  from  the  early  part  of  the  third 
century  of  being  the  resting-place  of  the  great  Roman 
bishops  who  suffered  for  the  faith,  t  A  fresco  long  con- 
cealed in  an  upper  gallery  of  this  catacomb  gives  a  vivid 
representation  of  the  great  fight  of  faith  against  force. 
This   picture  is  unique   of  its   kind,  for  the  persecuted 

*  Rossi,  "Roma  sottenanea,"  ii.  c.  II,  tav.  45,  55.  "  Inscript.  Christ." 
p.  416.   Rossi,  "Bulletin  d'archeol.  Chret."  1865 .  p.  32.  "  Inscript.   Christ." 

P-  14-      , 

t  AiovvcTiov  larpov  Trpsfrtvrepov.   Rossi,  **  Rom.  sotter."  vol.  i.  tav.  21,  9. 

I  See,  on  this  point,  the  conclusive  demonstration  of  M.  Rossi.  He  has 
found  the  broken  fragments  of  the  inscriptions  on  the  tombs  of  Bishops 
Fabianus,  Anteros,  Eutychius,  Cornelius,  and  Urban.  "Rom.  sotter."  i. 
c.  5.  The  magnificence  of  the  structures,  and  the  inscriptions  of  the  pilgrims 
of  the  fifth  and  sixth  centuries  also,  leave  no  doubt  on  the  subject. 


THE    CHRISTIANITY    OF   THE    CATACOMBS.  50I 

Christians  were  ever  more  ready  to  represent  the 
triumph  of  faith  than  their  sufferings  and  wrongs.  The 
Roman  magistrate  is  here  depicted  seated  in  the  midst 
of  the  forum ;  he  has  all  the  arrogance  of  irresistible 
power ;  it  is  plain  that  through  him  is  heard  the  voice 
of  Caesar;  before  him  is  a  Christian  being  examined. 
It  is  impossible  to  describe  the  calm  serenity  and  gentle 
firmness  conveyed  by  his  look  and  gesture.  We  feel  as 
we  gaze  that  nothing  can  daunt  him,  that  he  represents 
a  power  higher  than  that  of  all  the  praetors  and  pro- 
consuls. A  man  clothed  in  priestly  robes  is  retreating 
hurriedly  from  the  forum  ;  his  attire  is  that  of  a  pagan 
priest ;  it  is  evident  that  this  is  the  denouncer  who  has 
brought  the  Galilean  before  the  judge.  The  condem- 
nation of  the  accused  is  certain,  but  the  flight  of  the 
accuser  shows  that  in  reality  it  is  he  who  is  vanquished. 
He  knows  well  that  though  he  may  kill  the  man  he  can- 
not kill  the  faith,  which  in  the  end  will  overturn  all  his 
idols  and  lay  them  in  the  dust.  This  fresco  sets  before 
us  that  sublime  scene  so  often  described  in  the  Acts  of 
the  Martyrs,  the  brief  decisive  dialogue  between  the 
representative  of  the  new  faith  and  the  armed  defender 
of  the  ancient  State.  We  seem  to  hear  the  simple 
confession,  Christianus  sum,  repeated  through  three 
centuries  by  thousands  of  voices,  and  of  which  the 
Polyeucte  of  Corneille  brings  to  our  ears  the  triumph- 
ant echo.  We  could  imagine  ourselves  present  at  the 
trial  of  Polycarp  or  Justin.  The  confessor  seems,  in 
the  moment  of  condemnation,  to  behold  with  the  eye  of 
faith  the  chariot  of  fire  waiting  to  carry  him  up  to 
heaven,  a  symbol  constantly  repeated  in  the  Arcosolia 
of  the  martyrs. 


502  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

Even  in  the  exalted  frame  of  mind  produced  by  perse- 
cution the  Church  did  not  cut  herself  off  from  social 
life.  We  have  ample  evidence  of  her  wisdom  and 
moderation.  She  resisted  oppression  in  the  name  of 
right,  and  on  the  same  principle  she  took  advantage  of 
the  legislation  of  the  Empire  whenever  it  was  favourable 
to  her.  This  is  shown  by  the  very  existence  of  the 
catacombs.  Archaeologists  have  often  asked  how  the 
Christians  could  have  achieved  such  works  in  safet}^ 
under  the  constant  peril  of  proscription.  This  historical 
problem  remained  insoluble  till  the  valuable  discoveries 
of  the  right  of  association  granted  in  imperial  Rome.  It 
has  been  shown  that,  while  this  law  repressed  severely 
all  political  associations,  it  gave  large  immunities  to 
societies  formed  for  purposes  of  burial.  The  despotism 
of  the  Caesars,  so  indifferent  to  human  life,  showed  it- 
self more  scrupulous  over  the  dead  than  over  the  living. 
It  would  have  shrunk  from  measures  which  would  have 
rendered  impossible  those  funeral  ceremonies  to  w^hich 
pagan  superstition  attached  great  influence  over  the 
destinies  of  the  soul.  The  recent  discovery  of  the  rules 
of  one  of  these  associations,  called  by  the  names  of 
Diana  and  Antinous,  has  brought  to  our  knowledge  the 
actual  text  of  the  Senatus  Consultus,  which  gave  ex- 
ceptional privileges  to  burial  clubs.  It  runs  thus  :  "That 
the  right  of  association  be  granted  to  those  who  desire 
to  form  burial  clubs,  on  condition  that  they  only  meet 
once  a  month  to  make  the  necessary  payments  for  the 
burial  of  their  dead."  ''"     Feasts  in  honour   of  the  de- 

*  "Li. eat  qui  stipem  menstnnni  conferre  volent  in  fun  ra,  semel  in 
mense."  "  Inscript.  Latin,  select,  amplissim.  collect."  Oreilius-Henzen, 
Turin.  1828-1855.  No. 6086. — Comp.Mommsen,  "Ue  collej^iiset  sodaliiat." 
p.  87. — "  Histoire  de  la  religion  Romaine,"  par  Gustave  Boissier,  vol.  ii. 
P-  313- 


THE    CHRlSTlAxXITY    OF    THE    CATACOMBS.  503 

ceased  quickly  became  an  important  feature  of  these 
societies,  and  enjoyed  the  same  toleration.  In  order  to 
increase  their  resources,  which,  notwithstanding  the 
rule  of  weekly  payments,  were  often  insufhcient,  they 
chose  wealthy  patrons,  who  endowed  them  liberally. 
Lastly,  they  put  themselves  under  the  protection  of 
certain  gods,  whoss  name  they  assumed.  The  members 
of  these  societies  were  called  respectively,  cultores  Diance, 
Herculis,  Jovis,  and  sa  on.  We  have  even  a  formal 
passage  from  the  Digest  authorising  associations  of  this 
kind.*  Such  was  the  organisation  of  these  burial  clubs, 
and  such  were  their  recognised  privileges.  It  has  been 
shown,  not  only  by  analogy,  but  on  irrefragable  evi- 
dence, that  the  Christians  formed  associations  in  all 
respects  similar  to  those  thus  authorised  by  the  law, 
conforming  as  far  as  possible,  and  with  great  ingenuity, 
to  the  usages  universally  adopted  in  the  Empire. 
Thus  one  authentic  inscription  is  to  the  effect  that  a 
Christian  named  Evolpius,  described  as  cultor  Verbi,  a 
worshipper  of  the  Word,  built  at  his  own  expense  a 
Christian  burial-place.  The  name  of  Christ  is  thus 
substituted  for  that  of  the  pagan  deity  which  appeared 
at  the  head  of  the  ordinary  societies.  These  were  called 
■fraternities,  and  the  Christian  association  takes  the 
same  name.  Even  the  monthly  subscription  is  adopted 
by  the  Church  from  the  customs  in  common  use,  and 
sanctioned  by  the  authorities,  t  It  is  also  said  that 
the  Christians  often  obtained  the  site  which  they  used 
from  the  generosity  of  rich  families  who  had  embraced 

*  "  Permittitur  tenuioribus  stipem  menstruam  conferre."     Dig.  47,  22,  I. 

t  See  Rossi,  "  Rom:i  sotterrauea,"  vol.  i.e.  i,  §  4.  An  inscription  on  this 
same  model  has  been  discovered  by  M.  Renier  in  Africa.  "  Inscriptions  de 
I'Algerie."     No.  4026. 


504  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

the  faith.  The  catacomb  of  Domitilla  recals  by  its 
name  the  munificence  of  one  of  the  great  Roman  ladies 
of  the  imperial  house.  But  these  private  grants  of  land 
soon  became  insufficient.  The  Church  possessed  an 
institution  which  gave  her  another  very  important  point 
of  resemblance  with  the  authorised  clubs.  This  was 
the  Agape,  the  brotherly  repast,  which  had  been  a  cus- 
tom observed  from  apostolic  times.  What  more  easy 
than  to  let  this  represent  the  funeral  feast,  so  dear  to 
the  pagan  fraternities  ?  And  this  was  done.  More 
than  one  simple  inscription  bears  witness  to  the  fact. 
The  very  hall  of  the  Agape  has  been  discovered  in  the 
peristyle  of  the  catacomb  of  Domitilla.  There  are  the 
stone  seats  for  the  guests,  and  the  cistern  to  supply 
water  for  the  meal.  *  Nothing  could  be  a  stronger 
proof  how  completely  the  Church  adapted  herself  to 
the  usages  of  the  burial  clubs,  in  order  to  gain  the 
advantage  of  the  liberal  measures  extended  to  them. 
Here  we  have  the  solution  of  a  historical  problem, 
which  appeared  at  first  incapable  of  explanation  ;  and 
we  now  understand  how  the  thousands  of  Christians 
belonging  to  the  great  Church  of  Rome  were  enabled 
to  build  their  city  of  the  dead. 

By  conforming  to  the  practices  and  customs  of  Roman 
society,  in  so  far  as  they  did  not  involve  compliance 
with  paganism,  the  Church  showed  that  if  primitive 
Christianity  was  inflexible  in  its  opposition  to  idolatry, 
it  did  not  seek  to  assume  the  position  of  a  factious  sect, 
or  to  place  itself  outside  the  pale  of  society  or  of  the 
law.  On  the  contrary,  it  repudiated  unhesitatingly  the 
fierce  fanaticism  of  the  Montanists,  which  broke  with 

*  I  have  visited  it  with  M.  de  Rossi. 


THE    CHRISTIANITY    OF    THE    CATACOMBS.  505 

all  social  ties,  predicting  that  the  world  would  soon  be 
consumed  in  the  flames  of  the  last  judgment.  The 
Christians  never  desired  to  be  zealots,  with  hand  up- 
lifted against  all  the  institutions  of  the  Empire  :  on  the 
contrary,  they  appealed  to  these  institutions  whenever 
they  were  founded  on  right.  Had  not  the  great  Apostle 
Paul  pleaded  before  the  magistrates  of  Philippi  the 
formula  on  which  Cicero  so  eloquently  enlarged— C/y/s 
Romanus  sum  ?  nor  did  he  hesitate  to  appeal  to  Cesar's 
judgment-seat. 

We  have  seen  how,  while  it  did  not  seek  to  destroy 
the  State,  Christianity  made  it  its  first  task  to  elevate 
and  sanctify  the  family  relations.  The  tenderness  of 
natural  affection  is  abundantly  shown  in  the  catacombs; 
the  Christian  family,  that  noble  creation  of  the  new  re- 
ligion, is  there  exhibited  in  its  depths  of  love  and  sorrow. 
It  has  been  remarked  that  the  inscriptions  on  the  graves 
have  a  special  character;  they  do  not  adhere  to  the 
ordinary  style  of  epitaph  ;  they  often  adopt  a  tone  of 
passionate  apostrophe,  as,  for  example,  Live  in  God  ! 
Drink  His  cup  !  Be  in  peace  !  The  survivor  addresses 
the  departed  as  if  he  were  still  living,  and  at  his  side. 
His  grief  finds  most  touching  expression ;  he  uses  every 
term  of  endearment,  and  counts  up  the  years,  months, 
days,  hours,  in  which  the  beloved  object  was  his  own. 
The  head  of  the  family  receives  all  due  reverence.  This 
was  but  in  accordance  with  ancient  Roman  custom. 
That  which  is  more  remarkable  from  its  novelty  is  the 
place  accorded  to  the  wife  and  mother.  To  what  a 
moral  elevation  the  Christian  woman  has  been  raised, 
we  may  judge  from  the  or  antes  of  exquisite  purity,  so 
often  seen  in  the  catacombs.     One  glance  is  enough  to 


506  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

show  the  extent  of  the  moral  renovation  effected.  It 
is  a  mistake  to  suppose  that  these  orantes  represent 
Madonnas.  They  are  rather  types  of  the  Christian 
wife  and  mother  diffusing  around  her  an  atmosphere  of 
purity  and  prayer,  training  up  her  children  for  a  higher 
life,  and  implanting  in  their  hearts  memories  never  to 
be  effaced,  even  in  the  wild  career  of  youthful  passion. 
Above  many  of  these  images  we  read  the  name  of  the 
deceased.  In  the  catacomb  of  Callixtus  an  orante  is 
represented  between  two  lambs.  Have  we  not  in  this 
fresco  the  most  touching  symbol  of  Christian  mother- 
hood ? 

We  find  in  the  catacombs  a  large  number  of  loculi  of 
very  narrow  dimensions.  These  are  the  graves  of  little 
children.  The  Church  spreads  her  v/ing  over  the  new- 
born babe.  The  parents  loved  to  call  to  mind  the 
innocent  sportiveness  of  their  children,  even  over  their 
tombs  :  in  the  catacomb  of  Callixtus  we  often  find  their 
toys  represented.  A  fresco  on  one  of  these  loculi  shows 
the  figure  of  a  child  holding  out  a  bunch  of  grapes  to  a 
bird.  There  is  more  than  mere  grace  in  these  artless 
outlines ;  they  breathe  at  once  the  severest  piet}^  and 
the  tenderest  feelings  of  humanity.  The  large  liberty 
enjoyed  by  these  early  Christians  is  the  best  proof  of 
the  strength  of  their  religion :  petty  restrictions  are 
like  the  leading-strings  used  to  assure  a  tottering  gait. 

It  is  not  only  the  heroism  and  the  tenderness  of  the 
Christian  heart  which  thus  find  expression  on  the  walls 
of  the  Ccemeteria ;  we  read  there  also  the  record  of  the 
religious  thought  and  faith  of  the  Church.  In  this 
time  of  deep  emotion  that  faith  was  the  simple,  sincere 
expression  of  a  broken  heart,  and  knew  nothing  of  theo- 


THE   CHRISTIANITY   OF   THE    CATACOMBS.  507 

logical  quibbles.  It  rejoiced  in  its  freedom  from  the 
painful  uncertainties  of  paganism  as  to  a  future  life ;  it 
left  far  behind  both  the  elevated  aspirations  of  the  first 
book  of  the  ^neid,  which  led  to  the  Pythagorean 
metamorphoses,  and  the  subtle  argument  of  the  Phcsdo, 
which  ended  in  a  perhaps.  It  had  no  relation  to  that 
pagan  materialism  which  would  perpetuate  in  death 
the  life  of  earth,  and  surround  the  dead  man  with  the 
weapons  of  his  warfare  or  the  insignia  of  his  state. 
The  catacomb  becomes  a  second  cave  of  Joseph  of 
Arimathea,  where  the  disciple  is  laid  like  his  Master, 
only  to  await  the  day  when  the  stone  shall  be  rolled 
away  from  the  sepulchre.  Nay,  more,  there  is  no 
interruption  in  the  relation  between  earth  and  heaven. 
The  Christians  speak  to  their  beloved  dead  as  if  they 
were  by  their  side,  and  wish  them  an  eternal  rest. 
The  Christian  catacomb  raises  us  far  above  the  uncer- 
tainties and  confused  myths  of  paganism  :  it  breathes  a 
calm  faith  in  a  blessed  immortality.  Every  tablet  in 
the  wall  bears  this  impress,  so  constantly  do  we  find 
the  inscription  repeated.  In  pace !  Sometimes  it  is 
followed  by  the  words,  In  Deo  vivis,  or  by  symbols 
which  cannot  be  misunderstood,  such  as  the  anchor  in 
the  form  of  a  cross,  expressive  of  the  immovable  hope 
of  the  Christian,  or  the  dove  finding  refuge  in  the  ark 
with  the  green  olive  branch  in  its  beak,  the  image  of  a 
soul  which  has  safely  reached  the  eternal  shore.  It 
may  be  remarked  that  this  belief  in  the  immediate 
blessedness  of  the  departed  appears  in  three  different 
stages.  First,  there  is  the  simple  assertion,  He  is  in 
peace,  he  lives.  Then  it  is  expressed  as  a  desire  and 
hope,  and  finally  as  a  prayer,  asking  that  peace  may  be 


508  THE    EARLY   CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

given  to  the  beloved  soul.  The  very  mode  of  Christian 
burial  is  opposed  to  all  the  ideas  of  metempsychosis 
so  current  at  this  period.  It  is  an  attestation  of  the 
indestructible  personality  of  the  man,  who  is  to  live 
again  in  his  entirety.  Hence  the  Church,  following 
the  example  of  the  Jews,  objected  to  the  cremation  of 
the  body.  It  believes  that,  while  awaiting  the  great 
resurrection  day,  the  soul  enjoys  the  presence  of  God  in 
an  intermediate  state,  which  has  no  analogy  with 
purgatory,  as  is  evident  from  its  name — the  place  of  re- 
freshment, or  Refrigcrum.  This  is  repeatedly  mentioned 
on  the  tombs  of  the  Christians. 

With  reference  to  the  Christian  doctrine  properly  so 
called,  the  catacombs  give  us  the  broadest  possible  view 
of  it :  they  carry  us  back  to  what  is  known  as  the 
apostolic  creed,  which  was  simply  the  expansion  of  the 
confession  required  of  every  catechumen  on  the  day  of  his 
baptism.  We  find  ourselves  still  in  the  age  of  freedom, 
which  precedes  the  great  councils  and  their  theo- 
logical decretals.  The  faith  which  lives  in  the  repre- 
sentations on  the  catacombs  is  peculiarly  characterised 
by  the  absence  of  theology,  properly  so  called,  with  its 
subtle  distinctions  and  formal  systems;  so  much  so,  that 
there  is  no  believer  even  in  our  day  who  may  not  find 
there  the  simple  and  popular  expression  of  his  own 
faith.  Religious  truth  there  appears  as  a  yet  undivided 
inheritance,  to  be  shared  by  the  whole  family  of  Christ. 
Here,  in  this  hiding-place  from  pt^rsecution,  we  find 
the  most  powerful  affirmation  of  that  broad  evangelical 
catholicity  which  has  formed  more  or  less  the  creed  of 
all  the  greatest  minds  of  the  Church.  We  shall  show 
this  by  simply  enunciating  the  principal  symbols  under 


THE    CHRISTIANITY    OF    THE    CATACOMBS.  509 

which  the  Church  of  the  catacombs  deUghted  to  express 
its  faith. 

As  we  approach  those  first  times  of  persecution  which 
must  have  appeared  the  most  terrible,  we  find  the 
Church  using  a  mysterious  symboHsm  intelligible  only 
to  the  initiate.  It  was  however  very  simple,  and  con- 
sisted essentially  in  the  reproduction  of  certain  features 
of  Scripture  history,  which  received  a  new  and  special 
significance  from  the  circumstances  under  which  they 
were  used.  The  part  played  by  the  fish  in  these  symbols 
is  familiar  to  all.  The  Greek  word  l-xdv^  was  taken  for 
an  abbreviation  of  the  sacred  formula,  'Irjaov^s  Xplaro^ 
{jio<;  Oiov,  because  it  was  composed  of  the  initial  letters 
of  these  words.  The  sacrament  of  baptism  was  symbo- 
lised by  the  miraculous  draught  of  fishes,  and  that  of 
the  Eucharist  by  the  representation  of  the  mystical 
meal  which  we  learn  from  the  Fourth  Gospel  took  place 
by  the  shore  of  the  Lake  of  Tiberias  after  the  resurrec- 
tion of  Christ."  Controversy  can  gain  no  advantage 
for  either  side  from  these  frescoes,  to  which  no  precise 
theological  meaning  was  attached,  at  least  in  the  early 
ages.  The  palm,  the  anchor,  the  crown,  are  symbols 
which  speak  for  themselves,  like  the  anagram  which 
interlaces  the  name  of  Jesus  Christ  with  the  cross,  and 
which  onl}^  assumed  its  definitive  form  under  Constan- 
tine.  The  leading  doctrines  of  the  gospel  are  symbolised 
by  some  scene  from  Scripture,  often  treated  with  con- 

*  Rossi,  "  Roma  sotterranea,"  vol.  ii.  c.  13,  14.  See  also  Martigny's 
-'  Dictionnaire  d'archeologie  chretienne."  We  do  not  here  enter  on  the  dis- 
cussion of  the  interpretation  of  these  symbols.  We  remark  only  that  the 
symbol  alone  belongs  to  the  first  three  centuries,  the  commentary  on  it  is 
of  a  later  date.  See  Rossi,  work  quoted,  ii.  tav.  15.  On  the  Ix^vg,  "Spicileg. 
Solemn. "  iii.  p.  561.  Let  us  bear  in  mind  that  everything  in  these  frescoes  is 
symbolical,  and  not  realistic. 


510  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

siderable  artistic  skill.  Adam  and  Eve  beside  the  fatal 
tree,  represent  the  Fall.  Moses,  the  great  preparation  of 
the  first  covenant.  He  is  often  set  forth  striking  the  rock 
with  his  miraculous  rod,  and  making  the  water  flow 
forth  for  the  people,  who  eagerly  drink — a  suggestive 
type  of  that  thirst  for  truth  which  had  so  long  been  the 
torture  of  the  soul,  and  which  the  early  Fathers  so 
eloquently  described. 

Subsequently  we  find  a  representation  of  the  Apostle 
Peter,  but  this  belongs  to  a  much  later  date  than  the 
third  century.  The  Samaritan  woman  by  Jacob's  well 
brought  to  mind  the  same  longing  for  truth,  with  its 
satisfaction.  The  Magi  following  the  star  and  worship- 
ping the  infant  Saviour,  proclaimed  that  the  long  hope 
had  not  been  disappointed.  The  sacrifice  of  Abraham, 
sometimes  treated  with  sublime  pathos,  rehearsed  the 
mystery  of  the  Redemption.  The  resurrection  of  Lazarus, 
constantly  reproduced,  was  the  protest  of  Christian 
hope  against  the  gloomy  realities  of  death.  Jonah 
emerging  from  the  whale,  was  the  type  of  eternal  life 
triumphing  over  the  grave.  Noah  in  the  ark  of  safety 
was  the  Church  rising  above  the  floods  of  persecution. 
Daniel  in  the  lion's  den  recalled  the  terrible  cry,  "The 
Christian  to  the  lions  !  " 

The  Gospel  of  the  Childhood  occupies  an  important 
place  in  the  catacombs  :  the  Virgin  of  Nazareth  con- 
stantly appears  presenting  the  infant  Jesus  to  the  Magi, 
but  is  never  herself  the  object  of  adoration.  The  Gospel 
scenes  are  rendered  with  singular  vividness.  The  mira- 
culous cures  symbolise  the  permanent  miracle  of  moral 
renovation.  The  apostles,  and  foremost  among  them 
St.  Peter  and  St.  Paul,  who  are  always  placed  upon  an 


THE    CHRISTIANITY    OF    THE    CATACOxMBS.  51I 

equality,  as  we  see  them  admirably  represented  in  the 
bronze  medal  preserved  in  the  museum  of  the  Vatican, 
are  painted  sometimes  in  groups,  sometimes  as  gathered 
around  the  Master  at  the  paschal  feast.  The  sarcophagi 
on  which  are  representations  of  the  arrest  of  the  Lord 
and  His  appearance  before  the  Roman  proconsul,  belong 
probably  to  the  fifth  century  ;  for,  as  we  have  already 
said,  the  persecuted  Church  draws  a  veil  of  glory  over 
the  closing  scenes  of  the  humiliation.  In  the  frescoes 
and  sarcophagi  which  belong  probably  to  the  close  of 
the  third  century,  the  Christians  remind  themselves  of 
the  duty  of  watchfulness  and  the  shame  of  falling 
away,  by  representations  of  Peter's  denial.  The  whole 
lesson  is  briefly  conveyed  by  the  image  of  a  cock,  since 
the  crowing  of  that  bird  was  the  warning  to  Peter  on 
the  fatal  morning.*"  Pilate  is  often  represented  washing 
his  hands  :  to  the  persecuted  this  was  a  simple  and 
powerful  way  of  saying  that  their  proscription  was  with- 
out excuse,  and  that  their  blood  was  on  the  hands  of 
the  unjust  judges  who  condemned  them  without  a 
cause.  This  primitive  symbolism  is  derived  almost 
entirely  from  the  sacred  books.  From  the  Apocrypha 
of  the  Old  Testament  the  only  allusion  is  to  Tobias. 
In  the  catacombs  at  Naples  is  a  fresco,  unique  of  its 
kind,  which  represents  the  erection  of  the  mystical 
tower  in  "  Pastor  Hermas."  There  is  one  image  which 
the  early  Christians  constantly  reproduced,  and  which 
seems  like  the  living  Credo  of  the  Church  :  this  is  the 
Good  Shepherd  bearing  home  on  His  shoulders  the 
sheep  which  was  lost.  The  Christian  art  of  early  times 
delighted  in  multiplying  these  representations,  striving 

*  See  the  plates  in  ''  Roma  sotterranea, "  vol.  ii. 


512  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

to  clothe  with  ineffable  tenderness  and  grace  this  ideal 
personification  of  the  Divine  mercy.  How  far  removed 
is  all  this  from  the  quibbles  of  a  rigid  and  implacable 
dogmatism  !  The  very  soul  of  the  gospel  breathes  in 
this  favourite  fresco  :  it  is  the  simple,  grand  story  of 
Divine  love  seeking  the  lost  soul  on  the  dark  mountains. 
No  formulary  could  so  well  convey  the  eternal  truth  of 
Christianit}^  or  could  so  severely  condemn  the  fratricidal 
strife  of  intolerance. 

Side  by  side  with  these  purely  evangelical  symbols, 
we  have  others  which  have  freely  borrowed  from  pagan- 
ism, though  they  are  made  by  a  bold  system  of  inter- 
pretation to  embody  the  Christian  idea.  Such  are  the 
dolphin,  the  peacock,  the  phoenix,  images  of  immor- 
tality. Sometimes  we  find  winged  genii  and  poetical 
representations  of  the  seasons  ;  sometimes  Psyche  and 
Orpheus,  in  whom  Clement  of  Alexandria  discovered  an 
original  type  of  the  Word,  subduing  our  passions  by 
the  celestial  harmony  of  His  voice.  Again  we  have 
Ulysses  surrounded  by  sirens.  The  generous  apology 
of  the  Fathers  of  the  Eastern  Church,  who  discerned  a 
germ  of  the  Word  in  every  heart  of  man,  and  a  sort  of 
foreshadowing  of  Christianity  in  the  higher  culture  of 
the  ancient  world,  also  finds  confirmation  in  the  cata- 
combs, even  in  a  Church  so  little  given  to  speculative 
tendencies  as  the  Church  of  Rome.  The  nearer  we 
come  to  the  cradle  of  Christianity,  the  less  do  w'e  find 
of  petty  scruples,  and  the  more  of  true  liberty  of  spirit. 
The  decoration  of  the  Hall  of  the  Agape  in  the  Cata- 
comb of  Domitilla,  which  is  one  of  the  earliest,  is  full 
of  life  and  freshness,  and  the  same  remark  will  apply  to 
the  Catacomb  of  St.  Pretextatus.     The  style  is  classic, 


THE    CHRISTIANITY   OF   THE    CATACOMBS.  513 

and  reminds  one  of  the  elegant  pencilling  of  the  frescoes 
found  in  the  palaces  and  villas  of  the  Roman  aristocracy. 
We  observe  the  same  freedom  of  manner  in  the  treat- 
ment of  evangelical  subjects.  There  is  no  approach  as 
yet  to  the  rigid  types  of  a  conventional  art,  such  as  will 
presently  arise  at  Byzantium,  and  substitute  the  gilded 
nimbus  for  the  flash  of  the  eye,  freezing  the  life,  and 
petrifying  it  into  certain  consecrated  forms.  The  almost 
Byzantine  figure  of  Christ  found  in  the  tomb  of  St. 
Agnes  is  of  much  later  date.  The  figures  which  belong 
to  the  second  and  third  centuries  are  far  more  instinct 
with  life.  Archaeologists  regard  this  free  and  living 
character  of  the  mural  paintings  of  the  catacombs  as  a 
sure  index  to  their  date. 

Christian  art  is  obviously  a  new  thing,  at  least  in  the 
thoughts  which  it  embodies,  though  it  makes  use  of 
the  methods  which  have  been  handed  down  to  it  by 
ancient  art,  and  is  itself  developed  slowly,  as  lacking  the 
stimulus  of  success.  Its  originality  is  readily  perceived 
by  a  comparison  of  the  figures  painted  in  the  frescoes 
of  the  catacombs  with  those  masterpieces  of  pagan 
antiquity  which  fill  the  museums  of  Rome.  The  out- 
line of  the  features  is  the  same  —  the  severe,  correct 
profile  of  the  sons  of  the  kingly  people  ;  but  what  a 
change  in  the  expression ;  what  new  divine  enthusiasm 
animates  the  face.  There  has  been  a  great  inward  con- 
flict and  conquest.  The  highest  type  of  beauty  is  not 
now  the  subtle  grace,  the  Olympian  calm  of  the  Greek, 
nor  the  proud  dignity  of  the  old  Roman  :  it  is  the  deep 
feeling  of  the  soul,  eloquent  of  hope  and  love.  The 
glowing  aureole  which,  in  Christian  art,  encircles  the 
head,  is  woven  of  faith  and  charity.     The  world  within 

34 


514^  THE    EARLY   CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

and  the  world  above  have  set  their  impress  on  these 
faces,  which  were  cast  originally  in  the  same  mould  as 
those  of  the  statues  in  the  Capitol.  As  we  gaze  on  the 
Virgin  in  the  catacomb  of  Priscilla,  we  feel  that  the  art 
\\'hich  by  the  hand  of  Raphael  will  fix  upon  canvas  the 
purest  ideal  of  Christian  beauty,  is  already  born  among 
these  proscribed  Christians,  who,  in  the  brief  interval 
of  rest  from  persecution,  hurriedly  trace  these  noble 
outlines  in  memory  of  the  confessors  who  have  just 
fallen  victims. 

Thus  do  the  catacombs  bring  again  before  our  eyes 
the  image  of  that  Ante-Nicene  Church  which  blended 
with  its  ardent  faith  the  truest  humanity,  whether  by 
that  word  we  mean  to  express  the  large  brotherhood 
in  which  all  minor  distinctions  are  lost,  or  the  natural 
affections,  that  tenderness  which  is  the  source  alike  of 
our  highest  joys  and  bitterest  anguish.  Ready  to  die 
for  his  God,  the  Christian  of  this  age  comes  before  us 
as  the  unflinching  advocate  of  his  rights  as  a  man, 
appealing  to  the  law  of  his  country  against  injustice, 
and  refusing  to  be  cast  out  of  society  as  a  fanatic  who 
has  no  interests  in  common  with  his- fellows.  Neither 
can  he  be  justly  reproached  with  being  an  enemy  to  the 
beautiful :  so  far  from  repudiating  art  as  a  form  of 
idolatry,  he  accepts  that  he  may  renovate  it.  The  sect 
which  Tacitus  (who  was  capable  of  a  truer  apprecia- 
tion) accused  of  hating  humanity,  has  been  in  fact  the 
conservator  of  its  best  treasures. 


5^5 


CONCLUSION. 

Let  us  recapitulate  in  a  few  broad  outlines  this 
history  of  the  most  marvellous  of  human  revolutions. 
Born  amid  the  ignoble  and  the  base,  hidden  like  a  lost 
thing  in  a  remote  corner  of  the  world,  founded  by  One 
whose  life  began  in  a  stable  and  ended  on  a  cross, 
Christianity  commences  its  great  work,  poor  and  pro- 
scribed, and  having,  as  said  one  of  its  first  apostles, 
neither  silver  nor  gold.  In  these  its  days  of  obscurity 
and  persecution  it  reached  its  ideal  :  this  was  truly  the 
reign  of  the  Spirit  upon  earth,  and  it  mattered  little  to 
its  subjects  whether  they  were  found  in  the  poor  upper 
chamber  at  Jerusalem,  in  some  humble  quarter  of 
Ephesus  or  Corinth,  or  in  a  gloomy  prison  cell  in 
Rome.  The  religion  for  which  all  hearts  athirst  for 
God  had  been  waiting  had  come,  and  it  fulfilled  all  the 
best  aspirations  of  mankind,  which  had  been  able  to 
conceive  but  never  to  realise  that  which  Christianity 
made  possible.  This  religion  came  to  bring  at  once 
comfort  and  freedom,  to  impart  with  the  Divine  forgive- 
ness a  new  and  pure  life,  to  put  an  end  to  all  the 
bondage  of  the  past,  and  to  animate  all  the  future  with 
an  inspiration  of  love  and  holiness.  It  not  only  so 
raised  the  lot  of  the  individual,  but  it  founded  also  a  new 
society,  freed  from  the  bonds  of  the  pagan  state  as  from 

34* 


5l6  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAiM    CHURCH. 

those   of  the  Jewish  theocracy — a  society  of  beHeving 

souls    based    upon    a    common    faith,    and    upon    this 

faith  it  established  the  grand  equality  of  the  universal 

priesthood,   while  at  the  same  time  so   organising  its 

powers  as  to  unite  order  with  liberty.     Its  whole  life 

was  Christ.     Full  of  a  pure  and  ardent  devotion  to  the 

crucified  One,  Christians  looked  to  no  other  name  for 

the  salvation   of  the  world,  and  made  it  their  task  to 

gather  up  and  to  preserve  His  words.    His  memory  is 

their  chief  treasure,  and  they  are  animated  and  fortified 

by  His  living  Spirit.     To  suffer  and  to  die  for  Him  they 

count  happiness  and   glory.     Guided  by  His   apostles, 

who  are  pre-eminently  the  witnesses  of  the  Master,  they 

seek  to  reproduce  His  perfect  image  ;  in  them  He  lives 

again  upon  earth,  and  they  pour  out,  their  blood  freely 

to  carry  on  His  work  of  enfranchisement   and  universal 

restoration,   never  doubting  that  the  nations  to  whom 

they  are  sent  have  been  given  to  them  by  Him. 

This  state  of  spiritual  exaltation  could  scarcely  be 
permanent.  When  the  last  of  the  apostles  had  died 
at  Ephesus,  Christianity  underwent  the  same  sort  of 
change  as  is  supposed  to  pass  over  the  primary  emana- 
tion of  Oriental  Gnosticism,  which  becomes  more  and 
more  opaque  as  it  descends  from  the  upper  into  the 
lower  sphere.  Christianity  long  remained,  however, 
true  to  its  origin.  The  labours  and  conflicts  of  the 
Church  in  the  second  and  third  centuries  of  our  era, 
present  annals  of  such  heroism  as  can  scarcely  be  pa- 
ralleled in  history.  Its  missions  were  rapidly  extended 
throughout  the  whole  Roman  empire,  and  embraced 
all  classes  of  society.  The  gospel  of  Christ  was  heard 
alike  in  the  palace  of  Caesar,  in  the  workshops,  and  in 


CONCLUSION.  517 

the  lowest  haunts  of  slavery  and  sin,  and  proved  itself 
the  power  of  God  unto  salvation  to  a  vast  number 
whose  prayers  and  praises  rose  in  many  tongues  to  the 
same  Saviour,  thus  exalting  the  one  religion  of  humanity 
above  all  distinctions  of  race  or  language.  Freedom  of 
conscience — that  most  precious  heritage  of  mankind — 
was  vindicated  through  three  centuries  of  persecution. 
Christians  might  lose  their  lives  in  the  circus  or  on  the 
scaffold,  but  in  the  higher  domain  of  thought  they  were 
victorious  still,  trampling  beneath  their  feet  all  the 
scornful  or  learned  opposition  of  paganism.  The  great 
apologetic  school  founded  at  Alexandria  in  the  second 
century,  handed  down  to  posterity  a  heritage  of  Christian 
thought  so  rich  and  large  that  it  has  not  yet  been 
exhausted.  Here' was  made  the  most  successful  attempt 
to  harmonise  the  new  religion  with  ancient  culture. 
In  this  direction,  also,  Christianity  showed  its  freedom 
from  all  national  exclusiveness  ;  it  offered  itself  as  the 
final  religion  simply  because  it  satisfied  the  universal 
needs,  which  previous  religions  had  expressed  in  myth- 
ical and  fantastic  forms,  but  had  never  been  able  to 
appease. 

Stimulated  by  the  necessity  of  self-defence  both 
against  pagan  speculation  and  heresies  which  were 
often  the  reappearance  under  a  new  disguise  of  the  old 
natural  religions,  Christianity  proceeded  to  develop  its 
theology,  allowing  perfect  freedom  of  thought  on  all 
points  not  essential.  While  it  held  fast  the  one 
universal  Credo  enshrined  in  the  deep  heart  of  all  its 
disciples,  it  was  careful  not  in  any  way  to  discourage 
diversity  and  originality  of  thought  in  its  schools. 
There  was  as  yet  no  attempt  at  an  organised  or  cen- 


5l8  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

tralised  unity,  nor  was  there  any  dominant  authority 
vested  in  a  man  or  in  a  council,  before  which  all  opinions 
were  to  bow.  When  one  Roman  bishop  in  the  second 
century,  and  another  in  the  third,  attempted  to  impose 
his  views  on  the  Christian  East  or  on  the  Church  of 
Africa,  they  encountered  unconquerable  opposition,  and 
Cyprian  and  Irenasus  alike  denounced  the  usurpation. 
Two  centuries  after  Christ,  the  ecclesiastical  constitu- 
tion, as  we  know  from  documents  of  indisputable 
authority,  yet  maintained  the  grand  liberties  of  the 
Christian  people,  and  the  universal  priesthood  was 
still  recognised,  in  spite  of  -a  growing  tencle.icy  to  en- 
croachment on  the  part  of  the  episcopate.  Worship 
was  still  essentially  the  living  sacrifice  of  the  devout 
soul  presented  in  prayer,  the  eucharist  of  grateful  love 
making  itself  an  offering,  not  as  an  atonement  for  its 
sin,  but  in  order  to  bless  others.  There  were  as  yet  no 
holy  places,  properly  so  called,  no  holy  days,  no  holy 
caste.  Every  Christian  home  was  a  temple  of  God, 
and  the  father  of  the  family  its  natural  priest.  Thus 
were  brought  about  those  great  reformations  which 
abolished  all  the  privileges  founded  on  the  old  exclu- 
sive right  of  citizenship,  and  established  on  the  broad 
basis  of  humanity  the  equal  claims  of  woman,  child,  and 
slave,  with  the  free  man.  These  reforms,  carried  out 
first  in  the  home,  laid  the  foundations  of  a  new  state  of 
society. 

Doubtless  this  grand  Christianity  of  the  early  ages 
seemed  fast  degenerating  from  the  latter  h^lf  of  the 
third  century.  The  Church  lost  her  hold  of  that  great 
doctrine  of  justification  by  faith  which  is  the  source  and 
safeguard   of  all  her  liberties,  because  it  alone  places 


CONCLUSION.  519 

the  Christian  on  the  sure  footing  of  a  pardoned  child 
of  God,  free  from  all  those  servile  fears  under  which  the 
soul  is  soon  again  brought  into  bondage.  Religious 
thought  became  timorous ;  Origen  was  treated  as  a 
heretic.  The  episcopate  assumed  sacerdotal  authority, 
and  claimed  the  right  to  remit  sins.  Before  its  triumph 
there  was  a  sharp  conflict  on  the  subject  at  Alexandria, 
Rome,  and  Carthage,  in  which  the  most  illustrious 
teachers  of  the  Church  took  part.  Worship  showed  a 
tendency  to  return  to  Jewish  separatism  ;  the  Eucharist 
became,  according  to  Cyprian,  an  expiatory  sacrifice, 
intended  to  supplement  that  which  was  left  incom- 
plete on  Calvary.  Men  began  to  set  up  an  ideal 
standard  of  Christian  perfection,  not  to  be  reached 
under  the  conditions  of  ordinary  family  life ;  asceticism 
grew  under  the  same  influences  which  fostered  sacer- 
dotalism and  the  sacramentarian  character  of  Christian 
worship.  The  synod  of  Antioch,  which  condemned 
Paul  of  Samosata,  bore  little  resemblance  to  the  free 
conferences  of  the  preceding  period,  in  which  it  was 
sought  to  win  the  heretic  by  moral  suasion,  for  that 
synod  called  in  the  aid  of  the  secular  arm  at  a  time 
when  the  emperor  was  still  pagan. 

Thus  is  inaugurated  the  entirely  new  period  which 
commences  with  the  fourth  century.  The  Church 
acquires  undoubtedly  some  splendour  from  her  alliance 
with  the  Empire,  but  the  protection  thus  gained 
is  ever  a  precarious  and  uncertain  thing,  and  even 
more  fatal  to  the  true  interests  of  orthodoxy  in  its 
smiles  than  in  its  frowns.  Great  general  councils  take 
the  place  of  the  free  conferences  of  the  early  synods, 
and  questions  of  faith  are  settled  by  arbitrary  decrees. 


520  THE    EARLY   CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

An  outward  and  forced  unity  is  gradually  substituted 
for  that  living  unity  of  soul  which  is  alone  of  any  real 
value.  Pagan  multitudes  are  simply  handed  over  by 
the  Empire  to  the  Church,  which  is  to  subdue  and 
mould  them  to  her  own  likeness ;  nay,  presently  bar- 
barous hordes  are  thrust  into  her  ranks,  whom  she  is 
first  to  baptise  and  then  instruct.  The  rudeness  of 
the  disciple  calls  forth  the  despotism  of  the  master,  and 
thus  tends  to  the  complete  development  of  the  eccle- 
siastical authority  by  the  constitution  of  the  hierarchy. 
The  true  spirit  of  Christianity  is  indeed  still  living 
even  in  this  degenerate  Judaised  form,  and  it  will  in  the 
end,  in  spite  of  all  obstacles,  build  up  a  new  civilisation 
on  the  ruins  of  the  ancient  world.  But,  given  human 
nature  and  the  barbarism  of  the  age  which  followed 
the  great  invasions,  it  was  not  possible  that  the  Church 
should  maintain  the  spirituality  and  liberty  of  its  early 
days.  It  was  not  preserved  by  any  supernatural  power 
from  the  dangerous  influences  of  so  corrupt  an  age  ; 
rather  it  was  placed  in  the  midst  of  them  as  a  free 
moral  agent  exposed  to  the  inevitable  perils  of  liberty  ; 
but  it  was  preserved  from  perishing  by  an  inextinguish- 
able principle  of  life  within  and  still  more  above  it, 
which  brought  light  out  of  the  densest  darkness,  and, 
finally,  good  out  of  evil,  as  by  dearly  bought  experience 
it  was  gradually  led  back  to  the  true  principles  of  its 
origin.  These  principles,  often  forgotten,  misconceived, 
or  even  formally  repudiated,  never  ceased  to  work  as  a 
hidden  leaven  Vv-ithin  the  Church.  To  them  it  owes  all 
the  great  reformatory  movements  which  from  the 
middle  ages  to  this  day  have  shaken  it  out  of  its 
lethargy.     Therefore  it  is  we  must  not  lose  hope  even 


CONCLUSION.  521 

in  the  darkest  days,  when  the  usurpations  of  the 
hierarchy  seem  to  have  reached  their  height,  when 
enslaved  consciences  are  brought  under  the  sway  of  a 
gross  and  superstitious  pietism,  and  in  s  lence  and  in 
secret  noble  souls  groan  over  the  decay  of  true  spiritual 
life.  Let  us  be  well  assured  that  European  Christianity 
must  pass  through  yet  another  great  crisis  of  renova- 
tion, unless  it  would  give  place  to  that  old  naturalism 
which,  in  our  day,  as  eighteen  centuries  ago,  does 
battle  with  the  higher  life  of  humanity.  It  claims  to 
be  some  new  thing,  while  in  reaHty  it  is  but  the  resur- 
rection of  paganism,  without  its  symbols,  since,  like 
paganism,  it  deifies  only  force  and  matter.  It  must  be 
ours  to  triumph  over  it,  or  to  perish  with  all  our  civili- 
sation, our  rights,  our  liberties,  our  moral  culture.  Let 
it  be  clearly  understood  that  in  this  conflict  the  victory 
will  be  not  to  a  degenerate  and  enslaved  Church,  nor  to 
a  Church  in  which  all  the  intellectual  paradoxes  of  the 
age  find  free  play,  but  to  a  renovated  Christianity  re- 
turning to  the  dauntless  and  heroic  spirituality  of  its 
youth.  May  the  image  of  such  a  Christianity  be  traced 
in  some  measure  in  this  book,  which  has  no  other  aim 
than  to  set  it  forth  before  the  eyes  of  this  generation. 


525 


NOTES  AND  EXPLANATIONS. 


Note  A.— On  the  separation  of  the  Agape  from  the  Lord's  Stipper, 
in  co7iseq2ience  of  the  decree  of  Pliny  the  Yoicnger. 

We  will  cite  first  the  text  of  Pliny  (lib.  x.  ep.  xciv.)  :  "  Affirmabant 
autem  alii,  hunc  fuisse  summum  vel  culpae  suse  vel  erroris,  quod 
essent  soliti  state  die  ante  lucem  convenire  carmenque  Christo 
quasi  Deo  dicere  secum  invicem,  seque  sacramento  non  in  scelus 
aliquod  obstringere  sed  ne  furta,  ne  latrocinia,  ne  adulteria  commil- 
terent,  ne  fidem  fallerent,  ne  depositum  appellati  abnegarent." 
We  have  here  Pliny's  description  of  the  first  rehgious  service 
on  the  Lord's  Day,  which  was  held  in  the  morning,  at  the  very  hour 
of  the  Resurrection.  It  was  opened  by  an  alternating  chant  in 
praise  of  Jesus  Christ.  What  are  we  to  understand  by  the  solemn 
engagement  to  avoid  every  evil  act  t  The  reference  cannot  be  to 
the  baptismal  vow,  which  did  not  occur  in  the  ordinary  service,  but 
is  probably  to  the  solemn  exhortations  addressed  by  the  Christians 
to  one  another,  to  abstain  from  all  evil ;  in  other  words,  the  allusion 
is  to  the  preaching,  which  was  not  in  those  days  restricted  to  one 
individual,  but  was  shared  by  various  members  of  the  assembly. 
The  Roman  proconsul  knew  nothing  of  preaching ;  there  was 
nothing  of  the  kind  in  pagan  worship  ;  he  did  not  knew,  therefore, 
how  clearly  and  distinctly  to  describe  it.  But  he  is  substantially 
correct.  It  was  true  that  the  Christians  had,  as  a  part  of  their 
worship,  mutual  exhortation  to  the  practice  of  that  which  was  good. 
This  was  the  form  assumed  by  the  preaching  of  those  days,  which 
was  always  connected  with  the  reading  of  Holy  Scripture. 

So  much  for  the  first  gathering  for  worship,  which  Pliny  describes 
to  us  in  his  own  v/ay.  Let  us  pass  on  to  the  second  Christian 
assembly,  which  is  perfectly  distinguishable,  in  his  account,  from 


524  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

the  first.  "  Quibus  peractis  (after  the  performance  of  the  various 
acts  of  worship  just  enumerated)  morem  sibi  discedendi  fuisse, 
rursusque  coeundi  ad  capiendum  cibum,  promiscuum  tamen  et 
innoxium."  After  the  first  morning  gathering,  then,  the  Christians 
separated.  They  assembled  again  to  partake  of  a  common  and 
i/mocent  repast.  What  can  this  repast  be,  if  not  that  evening 
meal,  well  known  in  the  apostolic  age,  which  began  with  the  Agape 
and  concluded  with  the  Lord's  Supper }  That  it  was  not  simply 
the  Agape,  but  also  the  Lord's  Supper,  appears  from  the  expres- 
sion, i7inocent  repast.  The  Christians  laid  stress  on  the  innocent 
character  of  this  feast,  just  because  it  was  violently  assailed  by  the 
pagans,  who,  taking  literally  the  expression,  "  to  eat  the  fiesh  and 
drink  the  blood  of  the  Son  of  man,"  regarded  the  Lord's  Supper 
as  a  sanguinary  festival,  a  feast  of  Thyestes,  as  they  said. 
(9u4(7r£ta  cilTTva,  Eusebius,  "H.E."  v.  1.)  We  entirely  accept  this 
interpretation  of  the  passage  of  Pliny,  which  is  that  given  by  Nitsch 
("  Practische  Theol."  ii.  2),  by  Augustine  ("  Archasol."  ii.  566),  and 
Harnack  ("  Christliche  Gemeindegottesdienst,"  p.  230).  It  was  this 
second  gathering  which  alone  was  suppressed  after  Pliny's  edict 
against  unlawful  assemblies,  "  Quod  ipsum  facere  desisse  post 
edictum  meum,  quo  secundum  mandata  tua  hetczrias  esse  vetue- 
ram." 

We  know  that  these  assemblies,  forbidden  by  Trajan,  were  always 
accompanied  by  a  meal  taken  together.  The  Christians  then 
suppressed  their  sacramental  feast,  and  reduced  the  Agape  to  the 
proportions  of  a  simple  family  meal,  observing  the  Lord's  Supper 
from  that  time  at  the  public  morning  worship.  Subsequently,  wh-en 
the  laws  relating  to  these  associations  became  more  liberal,  es- 
pecially those  having  reference  to  the  burial  clubs,  the  public 
Agape  was  restored,  but  the  Lord's  Supper  was  not  again  connected 
with  it.  This  continued  to  be  observed  in  the  morning  service,  as 
we  see  in  the  description  given  of  it  by  Justin  Martyr  ("  Apol."  i. 
67).  We  are  then  fully  justified  in  saying  that  no  violence  is  done 
to  the  meaning  of  Pliny's  letter  when  it  is  regarded  as  evidence  of 
that  separation  of  the  Lord's  Supper  from  the  Agape,  which 
became  so  important  in  the  history  of  Christian  worship  in  the 
second  century. 


NOTES   AND    EXPLANATIONS.  525 

Note  ^.—Liturgical  conchisioji  of  the  first  Epistle  of  Cleme7it 
of  Ro7ne,from  a  new  MS,  discovered  at  Co7tstanti7iople. 
Since  writing  the  chapter  in  this  volume  on  Worship,  we  have 
become  acquainted  with  the  important  discovery  made  by  Philotheus 
Bryennius,  in  the  hbrary  of  the  monastery  of  the  patriarch  of 
Jerusalem  at  Constantinople,  of  a  MS.  which  supplies  all  the 
omissions  pointed  out  in  the  Alexandrine  MS.  of  the  Epistle  of 
Clement  of  Rome  to  the  Corinthians,  by  adding  to  it  the  complete 
text  of  the  homily,  given  under  the  name  of  the  same  Father,  and 
described  as  a  Second  Epistle  to  the  Corinthians.  We  need  not 
here  advert  to  this  curious  document,  which  appears  to  go  back  to 
the  latter  part  of  the  second  century,  the  period  when  "  Pastor 
Hermas"  (of  which  we  are  constantly  reminded  by  the  style  and 
thoughts  of  the  writer)  was  exerting  so  great  an  influence  in  Rome.* 
We  only  select  one  point  of  interest  in  connection  with  the  history 
of  worship,  namely,  the  fact  that  the  homily  is  read  instead  of 
being  merely  spoken. f  We  find  in  it  also  a  very  marked  distinc- 
tion between  the  visible  and  the  invisible  and  spiritual  Church, 
which  is  marked  by  all  the  characters  of  a  veritable  hypostasis, 
never  being  confounded  with  the  actual  Church  on  earth,  which 
may  become  a  den  of  thieves.  | 

The  first  Epistle  is  of  great  interest  in  its  bearing  on  the  history 
of  Christian  worship,  from  the  supplementary  portion  of  the  text 
just  found. 

The  genuineness  of  the  letter  is  altogether  beyond  question.  It 
is  declared  by  all  the  critics  to  belong  to  the  date  we  have  assigned, 
that  is,  to  the  close  of  the  first  century,  under  the  reign  of 
Domitian.§ 

Among  the  many  fragments  of  interest  which  we  gather  from  the 
Constantinople  manuscript,  we  place  foremost  the  prayer  which 
concluded  the  Epistle.  ||     This  is  evidently  the  reproduction  of  the 

*  "Patrum  apostol.  Opera  recensuer."  Oscar  de  Guibharr,  Adolpb. 
Harnack,  Theod.  Zahrn.  Lipsi^e,  Henrichs,  1B76,  §§  9,  10,  11.  See  also 
"  dementis  Romani  Epislolae,"  edid.    llilgenfeld.    Lipsise,  Weigel,  1876 

t  "Qfrre  dceX^oi  kuI  aceA^ai  dvayivojaKit)  vfilv  tvT£vE,iv.  "  2  Clem,  ad 
Corinth."  19. 

I  'E-TOjUfOa  c'k  rijg  iKKXrjfriag  Trjg  7rp(orr]g  rijg  TrvevfiariKijg,  riig  npb  i)\iov 
Kal  ae\r)VT]g  iKTi<jfih'i]g.      Ibid.  14. 

§  See  "Early  Years  of  Christianity,"  vol.  ii.  Martyrs  and  Apologists. 
Note  A,  Notes  and  Explanations."  1|  Chaps,  lix.-lxxii. 


5^6  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

prayer  used  in  the  public  worship,*  a  free  reproduction  as  might  be 
expected  of  that  primitive  Hturgy  which,  as  Justin  Martyr  says,  was 
fixed  as  to  its  general  order  but  was  not  in  fixed  terms.  In  it  we 
note  all  the  elements  of  the  prayers  used  in  public  worship,  as  we 
have  enumerated  these  from  the  writings  of  Justin  and  from  the 
Apostolical  Constitutions.!  Let  us  bear  in  mind  that  at  this  early 
period  the  distinction  between  the  general  worship,  at  which  the 
catechumens  as  well  as  the  faithful  were  present,  and  the  private 
sacramental  worship  was  not  yet  made,  and  that  consequently  many 
of  the  petitions,  which  in  the  third  century  are  divided  between  the 
two  prayers,  are  here  blended  in  one.  We  have  thus  a  living  echo 
of  the  adoration  offered  by  the  Christians  of  Rome  in  the  first 
century,  and  the  first  liturgical  monument  of  the  Christian  Church. 
It  is  easy  to  estimate  the  value  of  such  a  document,  till  recently  un- 
known. We  reproduce,  as  a  whole,  this  ancient  prayer  of  the 
Church  of  Rome  : — 

"  Let  us  pray  with  constant  and  earnest  supplication  that  the 
Creator  of  all  things  may  preserve  unbroken  the  fixed  number  of 
His  elect  in  the  world,  by  His  dear  Son  Jesus  Christ,  by  whom  He 
has  called  us  from  darkness  to  light,  from  ignorance  to  the  know- 
ledge of  His  glorious  name.  Our  hope  is  in  Thy  name.  Author  of 
all  created  life,|  Thou  who  hast  opened  the  eyes  of  our  heart  to  know 
Thee,  Thee  the  only  Great  One  among  the  great,  the  only  Holy 
One  among  the  holy.  Thou  dost  abase  the  proud.  Thou  dost  over- 
throw the  thoughts  of  the  wise,  Thou  dost  lift  up  the  lowly,  Thou 
enrichest  and  Thou  makest  poor,  Thou  givest  life  and  death,  Thou 
art  the  Benefactor  of  all  souls,  the  God  of  all  that  is.  Thou  lookest 
down  from  the  height  of  Thy  holiness.  Thou  regardest  all  the  actions 
of  men,  Thou  art  the  Helper  of  those  who  are  in  danger,  the  Saviour 
of  those  in  despair,  the  Creator  and  Preserver  of  all  souls.  §  It  is 
Thou  who  hast  multiplied  the  nations  upon  the  earth,  and  chosen 
out  of  them  all  those  that  love  Thee  by  Jesus  Christ,  Thy  well- 
beloved  Son,  by  whom  Thou  hast  taught  us,  sanctified  us,  honoured 

*  'Atrjjo-o/jtOa  iKT(V)]  Trjv  Ser^aiv  Kai  iKeaiav  iroiovfievoi.  "  I  Clem,  ad 
Corinth."  59. 

t  Justin,  "Apol.'M.  65-67.  Tertullian,  "Apol."  30.  "  Patrum  apost. 
opera."    Edit.  Guibhart,  note  to  p.  98. 

X  ' kpxtyovov  7rd(Ti]Q  Kri(yso)g.      "  I  Clem.  ad.  Corinth,"  59. 

§  Kt'iot^v  Kai  iiriaKOTTOv.     Ibid. 


NOTES   AND    EXPLANATIONS.  527 

US.  We  pray  Thee,  O  Lord,  be  our  help  and  stay.  Save  those  of  us 
who  are  in  affliction  ;  have  pity  on  the  humble,  raise  the  fallen,  re- 
veal Thyself  to  the  wretched,  heal  the  sick,  bring  back  to  Thyself 
the  erring  ones  of  Thy  people.  Feed  the  hungry,  deliver  our  cap- 
tives, give  strength  to  the  weak,  comfort  the  fearful  ones,*  and  may 
all  the  nations  know  that  Thou  alone  art  God,  and  that  Jesus  Christ 
is  Thy  Son,  and  that  we  are  Thy  people  and  the  sheep  of  Thy  fold. 
"Thou  hast  manifested  Thy  power  in  all  the  ordinances  of  nature. 
After  having  created  this  world,  O  Lord,  Thy  faithfulness  has  con- 
tinued throughout  all  generations.  Thou  art  just  in  Thy  judgments, 
glorious  in  strength  and  majesty. 

"  Thy  wisdom  is  shown  forth  in  the  creation  of  all  living  things, 
Thy  knowledge  in  their  preservation.  Thou  art  full  of  goodness  and 
mercy  towards  those  whom  Thou  dost  save,  ever  faithful  to  those 
who  put  their  trust  in  Thee.  God  of  all  pity  and  compassion,  for- 
give our  iniquity,  un.ighteousness,  and  sin.  Impute  not  their  tres- 
passes to  Thy  servants  and  handmaids,  but  purify  us  by  Thy  truth. 
Make  us  to  walk  in  tenderness  of  heart,  and  to  be  fruitful  in  all  good 
works  as  under  Thine  eye,  and  the  eye  of  our  rulers.f  Yea,  Lord, 
cause  Thy  face  to  shine  upon  us,  that  we  may  enjoy  the  blessings  of 
peace.  Cover  us  with  Thy  powerful  hand  and  let  the  strength  of 
Thine  arm  deliver  us  from  iniquity,  and  save  us  from  those  who 
hate  us  without  a  cause. :]:  Give  peace  and  concord  to  us,  and  to  all 
the  dwellers  upon  earth,  as  Thou  didst  to  our  fathers  who  called  on 
Thee  in  sincerity  and  truth,  when  Thou  hadst  made  them  obedient 
to  Thine  almighty  and  glorious  name. 

"  It  is  Thou  who  of  Thine  ineffable  majesty  hast  given  the  power 
to  rule  to  our  leaders  and  governors,  so  that  we,  acknowledgino-  that 
their  honour  and  glory  are  of  Thee,  should  submit  ourselves  to 
them,  according  to  Thy  will.  Grant  them,  Lord,  health,  strength, 
peace,  and  safety,  that  they^may  duly  use  the  power  Thou  hast 
given  them  ;  for,  O  Lord  of  heaven,  eternal  King,  Thou  hast  given 
to  the  sons  of  men,  glory,  honour,  and  authority  over  all  creatures 
upon  earth.  Direct  their  thoughts  into  the  way  of  righteousness  in 
thy  presence,  so  that  they,  administering  in  peace,  in  patience,  and 
piety,  the  power  Thou  hast  given  them,  may  find  Thee  favourable 

*  UapamXeaov  tovq  oXiyoxpi'xovvrai:.      "  i  Clem.  ad.  Corinth,"  59. 

f  'EvioTTiov  tCjv  apxovTijw  vfxiov.     Ibid.  60. 

\  Kai  pvffai  ripaQ  airb  riov  fiiaovvrujv  /y/mr  aoiKiiiQ.     Ibid. 


528  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 

to  them.  Thou  alone  canst  grant  us  these  and  all  other  blessings. 
We  praise  Thee  by  Jesus  Christ,  our  High  Priest,  the  Master  of  our 
souls,  by  whom  be  glory  and  majesty  unto  Thee,  world  without 
end.     Amen." 

Note  C. — The  Council  of  Laodicca  on  Silent  Prayer. 
Although  the  Council  of  Laodicea  belongs  to  a  date  long  subse- 
quent to  the  period  we  are  treating,  we  do  not  hesitate  with  Augusti 
to  find  in  the  canon  which  speaks  of  silent  prayer  and  prayer  by 
acclamation  the  trace  of  a  custom  dating  as  far  back  as  the  time  of 
Justin  Martyr.  That  Father,  indeed,  speaks  of  a  common  prayer 
offered  by  all  the  Christians  at  the  commencement  of  the  service. 
Now,  unless  we  suppose  that  they  all  prayed  aloud  at  once,  which 
would  have  made  an  intolerable  confusion  of  sounds,  we  must  allow 
that  this  prayer  was  offered  in  silence  ;  and  as  the  principal  subjects 
to  be  embraced  in  it  are  indicated,  it  may  be  inferred  that  these 
were  enumerated  by  the  officiating  minister,  and  confirmed  in  some 
v/ay  by  the  acclamation  of  the  assembly.  The  Canon  of  Laodicea 
gives,  therefore,  the  reasonable  explanation  of  the  passage  of 
Justin. 

Note  D. — Recent  writings  of  Overbeck  on  the  Church  and 
Slavery. 

There  has  lately  appeared  an  interesting  paper  on  the  relations 
between  the  Church  and  Slavery,  in  the  "  Studien  zur  Geschichte 
der  alten  Kirche,"  by  Franz  Overbeck.  First  edition.  Schloss 
Chemitz.  Schweilzer,  1875.  In  it  the  author  maintains  that  Chris- 
tianity did  not  oppose  slavery  as  an  institution,  but  simply  sought 
to  modify  it  from  a  religious  point  of  view,  passing  by  altogether  its 
social  aspect.  So  far  our  view  coincides  with  his,  but  we  hold  that 
the  religious  aspect  of  the  question  would  have  a  stronger  influence 
upon  the  social  than  this  writer  is  prepared  to  admit.  We  have 
cited  texts  which  show  that  the  Church  had  at  least  aimed  at  a 
complete  social  reformation,  until  it  was  checked  in  its  aspirations 
by  union  with  the  Empire. 


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